


The Other Way Around

by Jazz_2_chess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art, Canon-Typical Violence, Deputy Derek Hale, Everybody Lives, F/M, First Kiss, Getting Together, Hale-McCall Pack, Insecurity, M/M, Misunderstandings, Monster of the Week, Protective Derek Hale, Self Confidence Issues, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tattoos, The Pack Ships It, Werewolf Hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-01-12 09:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazz_2_chess/pseuds/Jazz_2_chess
Summary: Derek and Stiles dance around each other, like planets in the same orbit. When a new Big Bad comes rolling into town with their guns blazing and a monster roaming the streets of Beacon Hills, all hell breaks loose.Literally.





	1. You're All I've got...

**Author's Note:**

> I will post the remaining chapters in regular intervals, so stay tuned and enjoy.

_"I choose you, even when you are not an option"_

 

 

Stiles couldn’t for the life of him remember how he had once again managed to find himself back to back with a werewolf, each of them facing a potential threat in their designated directions. He very nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Only when said werewolf turned to him to shove him aside to take the force of the hit himself, did the laugh die in his throat.

“I told you to stay at home!”

Stiles hit the grass rather unceremoniously and pressed a hand against his ribs at the impact.

“Yeah, not gonna happen, Sourwolf!” The hunters closed in on them, ruthlessly aiming at Derek with what they knew to be arrows laced with Wolfsbane. Derek fell to his knees, then pulled the arrow out with a growl. Stiles was at his side as fast as he could and helped him up.

“Run!”

They made a beeline for the Jeep. Stiles immediately took a sharp left turn and very nearly ran over a hunter. They managed to drive through the woods for some time, slower than Stiles would have liked because of the trees but still saw the hunters behind them. For a moment, it looked as if they would make it but before he could yell in triumph, a sharp pang followed by the car swerving made him curse. Derek looked ready to kill and ripped open the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Stiles couldn’t help the panic in his voice.

“Saving your life again. I’ll hold them off. You run the other way!”

“No! Derek, I won’t leave you here!” Derek, who had rounded the car, pulled him out of the door and sent him stumbling in the other direction.

“Let me help, damn it!”

“No! You run the other way! Go!”

But Stiles didn’t move. If looks could kill, Stiles would have been dead by now.

A sound to his right, had Stiles jumping back. He tried to maintain a calm-and-collected façade but Derek didn’t buy it.

“I won’t let them hurt you!” Derek huffed. “Besides, you’re the one who insisted on staying.”

“Doesn’t mean I wanna die!” he snapped.

“You won’t die! I can take them.”

“Not alone! You think, I stayed because it’s fun, dumbass? You can’t take out three hunters!” To say he was annoyed, was the understatement of the century.

“You’re gonna have to trust me on that. I’m all you need.”

Before Stiles could comment on that, Derek continued “And you’re all I’ve got, so get your bat and get behind me!” The words stung more than they should have. Still, he picked up his only weapon. In the end, the hunters were faster than expected and they were once again circled. Stiles didn’t need to look at Derek to know he was preparing for an attack.

“Derek, don’t…” he whispered, so quietly only Derek would hear it.

“I’ll take them out, you stay here!” He pounced and threw the hunter in front of him off his feet.

The fight that followed was short and incredibly uneven. Derek made quick work of them, knocked them unconscious and then bound them to the trees. Scott had insisted on his no-killing-policy that both Derek and Stiles agreed on, was stupid.

Meanwhile, Stiles had finally gotten Scott to answer his phone and- after some yelling on Stiles’ part- Scott was on his way with a separate tire for the Jeep.

“I want to train.” Stiles said when Derek was done with resetting his finger after having it broken while clawing at the hunter. Those words seemed to have an impact on Derek that Stiles wasn’t sure how to interpret.

“You want to what?” He rolled his eyes.

“Train, Derek. You know that thing where you-“

“Yes, I know what training is, thank you.”

Stiles barely- just barely- contained the snort.

“Then what’s the problem? I wanna train so that-“ but he didn’t elaborate because that meant admitting that Derek’s words had hurt.

“What would you want to train for?” Derek behaved as if the thought was ridiculous which in turn had Stiles’ hackles rise.

“To be able to defend myself! To level the playing field! To not hide behind you when the fighting starts!” Stiles knew he was yelling but he didn’t care. The hunters were still out cold.

“So, you want another excuse to jump into danger head first.” Derek said, the words feeling like a punch.

“I don’t do that. And it’s not an excuse. I need to defend myself.”

“There would be no need to defend yourself if you would just do what I tell you and stay home.”

Just before Stiles was about to answer, Scott pulled up. They made short work of the tire and Stiles drove home without so much as a goodbye to Derek.

There were times when Stiles just couldn’t deal with Derek’s attitude.

And hell, today was such a day.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek knocked on Stiles’ window in the middle of the night. And while that was not an unusual occurrence, Stiles nearly had a heart attack before he realised it was his Alpha that lurked on his window-still.

“Something’s kidnapping people. Barely got away in time before it got me. The scratch’s not healing and I saw your light was still on.” Stiles remained mute for a second, seeing as this was about the longest string of words, Derek had uttered in his presence since he had known the guy. But, as usual, he found his words rather quickly.

“Get in then, Sourwolf.” He helped him inside when Derek stumbled.

“Let me take a look at it.” Derek ripped the remains of his shirt off his body. Stiles forced his eyes away from Derek’s abs and up towards the mean-looking scratch across his shoulder.

“No idea what it was?” Derek shook his head and didn’t even flinch when Stiles got to work and sewed the wound shut. Each of their houses had an emergency kit ready- mainly for Stiles but sometimes, like tonight, the wolves needed some medical assistance as well. He couldn’t detect anything specific that would offer any insight as to what the creature was.

“Chased it around that restaurant you like.” Derek grumbled.

“What were you doing there?” Stiles bit his tongue. He sounded way too interested for someone pretending to be blasé about it.

“I bought something to eat.” Derek didn’t hear the relieved sigh. Not that Stiles had thought that maybe Derek had had a date there.

He didn’t.

Well, not really.

Okay, maybe a little bit.

“Stiles!” He snapped to attention.

“You’re not listening!” Once more, Derek looked annoyed. At least that was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I said that I came out of the door and saw some kid get dragged away. I went after it but before I turned the corner, that thing clawed me.” To Stiles, that information just added to the confusion rather than diminishingit.

“So, we’re at zero.” He eyed the scratch curiously. There was no real shape to it, nothing that would distinguish it from any other claw-mark.

But why wasn’t it healing?

That was, what had Stiles worrying. If there was something able to slow down the wolf’s healing process, then that thing was very much a threat.

“I’ll ask my Dad tomorrow. Maybe he has something.” Derek nodded, then turned to leave, still clutching his shoulder. It spoke volume as to how much their relationship had progressed when Derek didn’t feel the need to pretend he was invincible around Stiles anymore. Stiles secretly relished in the way, Derek let him see he was hurt.

“You gonna be okay, Sourwolf? You can have the couch if you’re not up for running to the loft.” Derek grunted his answer but was already out of the window before Stiles got another word in.

He let himself flop down on the bed, grumbling to himself that a “thank you” here and there wouldn’t hurt.

 

* * *

 

 

Pack meetings were held at least once a week. This time, Stiles was playing host, which meant he had dedicated the whole first half of his day to doing the grocery shopping. That he ran into Derek in the middle of the vegetable-section, was pure coincidence.

“I thought you might need help with the shopping,” Derek grumbled instead of a greeting and Stiles felt that stupid warmth flood his stomach that appeared whenever Derek did something thoughtful.

“Wanna pick out some tomatoes?” Derek nodded and did what he was told. It seemed to go well before a fight erupted when they entered the meat-section.

“I’m not putting meat on pizza. I don’t care that you’re part wolf or whatever. That’s not healthy and-“

“Stiles. I’m a werewolf! I don’t get sick. I don’t have to watch my cholesterol, so let me-“

“No, Derek! I don’t give a damn if you put your ham on a pineapple but there is no steak going on any pizza.” He slapped Derek’s shoulder.

“My house, my rules, buddy.” Derek raised an eyebrow then broke into a grin.

“What?” Stiles was still fuming over the atrociousness that was steak on pizza when he noticed Derek’s smile.

“That was what you said to me when you hid me from the Sheriff.” Stiles felt a fluttering around his chest area because

a) Derek remembered and

b) he had made Derek smile.

They bickered all the way through the store, stopping only to discuss whether or not three ice-cream cups would be enough for Erica. When they reached the check-out, the cashier- a blonde lady that smiled at them a little too broadly- asked them who would pay for the groceries. Stiles inwardly winced when he heard the price but Derek already put his money into her hand. He tried to protest but Derek simply shushed and ushered him towards the Jeep to load in their groceries.

While Stiles liked the Camaro as much as any other car, it was in no way fit to carry that much to eat. And Derek would have had a heart attack if any of his precious seats were stained because Stiles had forgotten to put the tomato sauce into a halter so that it won’t break- which it obviously did. They reached the house in record time because Stiles was anxious to get home and start preparing the dough for the pizza- homemade, of course. Derek stopped at the door and looked around as if he wasn’t sure what to do. “You wanna come help?” Stiles asked without turning. Derek made a non-committal sound.

“You don’t need to. Just thought it’d be nice, you know? It’s a lot of dough and-“ but Derek had already stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me here.”

“Course I do, Sourwolf.” Before he could flip out about the weight that sentence held, Derek was hands deep in flour and Stiles forgot everything but Derek in his kitchen preparing dinner for his pack.

When Isaac arrived first- by foot since Scott was driving Allison and Kira- he took one step into the living room, saw Derek bickering with Stiles about pizza Hawaii with his whole hair doused in flour and broke down laughing.

They whipped around, both looking slightly caught and stared at him. Stiles launched into an explanation as to what they were doing or why Derek’s hair was completely white. Isaac simply raised an eyebrow at Derek. They could fool themselves all they wanted but Isaac- and the rest of the pack too for that matter- was very much aware that there was something going on between the two of them.

He knew better than to say that out loud though. Isaac watched as Stiles reached out to brush the flour out of Derek’s hair. Derek, for all his grumpiness, let it happen without telling Stiles what such a gesture meant to a wolf. Early on, Derek had told Isaac that grooming is something only a potential partner was allowed to do, so for Derek to let himself be touched like that by Stiles, spoke volumes about his feelings.

Even if Derek himself did not.

“You want extra cheese on your pizza, Isaac?”

They had stepped away from each other and Derek was glaring at the couch instead of looking at Stiles. Isaac watched Derek move around Stiles all evening. Sometimes he seemed to catch himself doing it and scowled but other times, he slipped up and smiled fondly. To Isaac, it was almost hilarious to watch both of them go out of their way to deny their connection. It occurred to him then that maybe Derek had a reason for keeping his distance but he couldn’t fathom why Stiles didn’t make a move.

“He’ll never say anything. He crushed on Lydia and didn’t even tell her when it was over- not that she needed to be told, ‘cause she’s a genius but still.” Scott flopped down beside him, a grin on his face.

“Come on, I’m not that oblivious.” Isaac snorted at that comment.

“So, if Stiles knows that he likes Derek, then why doesn’t he tell him?” Suddenly, Scott’s smile fell.

“Because he’ll never believe that Derek likes him back.” When Isaac wanted to protest, Scott continued talking.

“He doesn’t- look, even if Derek himself tells him he’s fallen head over heels, he’ll still not believe it. He just- I think that he doesn’t think someone like Derek would wanna…” Scott gestured towards Stiles and Isaac finally got it. An uncomfortable feeling made his stomach clench. He understood that kind of issue but to have a friend struggle with it, was something else.

“Is there anything we can do?” Scott shook his head.

“Derek’s not gonna tell him. I think he’s scared that if he allows himself to feel that way, Stiles is gonna get hurt. Which is bullshit by the way but you know Derek. He has that mentality where everything is his fault.”

Yeah, Isaac noticed that too- which was admittedly pretty hard not to what with the weekly self-sacrificing act and monthly guilt trip.

“So, they’re both gonna sit on their feelings and be mad at the world instead of doing something about it.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Isaac looked at the pair of them, sitting on the couch, one inch away from touching and saw them smiling at each other while talking animatedly. They would fit together so perfectly. But Isaac knew, if neither of them came forward, it wouldn’t happen.

Jackson had put on a movie and had cuddled up against Ethan- not that he would ever admit to cuddling but that’s what it was. Now, the pack was sprawled around on cushions and pillows, on the couch and in the arm chair.

Derek and Stiles still sat shoulder against shoulder and stared vehemently ahead. But it had been a long day and somewhere into the movie, Stiles’ posture relaxed and he let himself lean against Derek’s arm. Derek didn’t comment but moved so that Stiles’ neck wouldn’t have a crick when he stood up.

“You’re far softer than I thought, Sourwolf.” Stiles murmured, his eyes still glued to the TV.

“’m not soft.” Derek huffed.

“Yeah, you are.” Derek didn’t have it in him to argue, not when Stiles was snuggling against him like that. He had gone so long without that kind of touch that his skin felt on fire with it now.

“Quit moving.” he grumbled when Stiles squirmed around. In a moment of weakness, he grabbed Stiles’ chest and pressed his back against Derek. He needn’t be a werewolf to hear Stiles’ heartbeat skyrocket.

Stiles answered with a coherent “uh” and went limb in his grip. Neither of them dared to move and Derek contemplated letting Stiles go and apologising profusely when he felt his heart calm down to a steady beat. The tension in Stile’s body seemed to disappear and he melted against Derek, head on his shoulder and eyes already closing.

“Feel’s good, Sourwolf.” Stiles mumbled before he full relaxed. Derek saw Isaac raise that eyebrow again in an impression of his own- he should really be more careful with the things he taught that kid– Isaac was getting obnoxiously attentive. He flashed his eyes and saw Isaac smirk but back off.

Satisfied, he let himself calm down a bit which wasn’t all that hard with Stiles pressed securely against his chest. That Stiles’ proximity made him feel warm all over was something he chose to ignore for the moment.

Stiles desperately tried not to freak out.

Derek was currently snoring softly into his ear and Stiles’ heart was about to jump out of his chest. The pack had yet to notice. He tried to stay calm but having Derek use him as an overproportioned teddy-bear was something he hadn’t been prepared for. He had tried to stand up once because his back had started aching a while ago since he had remained in the same position for the entirety of the first movie but Derek wouldn’t have it. The wolf had locked him into a tight embrace which had ceased every attempt at moving.

_Freaking werewolves!_

“Need some help?” His head snapped up to see Isaac towering over him with that infuriating smirk on his lips that made Stiles want to retort something sarcastic. But since he was in a predicament and also didn’t want the entire pack see Derek cuddle him, his remark died on his tongue. Instead, he nodded and felt Isaac push Derek off him without waking him up.

Derek growled quietly and Stiles nearly fell over, when he saw the Alpha was honest to God pouting.

“Sooo, what’s the deal with you two?” Isaac asked.

Stiles didn’t know what to say, so he opened his mouth to launch into a rant about the derogationof female superheroes when Isaac shook his head and said: “Nope– no deflection this time. Just answer me: You like Derek?”

Stiles clamped his mouth shut.

“We can all see it, you know? And we’re fine with it. You should maybe tell him though.”

“No!”

“Why not?” Stiles was about to answer something witty when Derek stirred beside him.

“Stiles?” He sounded adorable, all sleep ruffled and squinty-eyed.

Isaac rolled his eyes and said “Seriously? You’re so smitten.”

Stiles scowled at him but ignored the comment in favour of brushing Derek’s hair out of his face.

“Whatever, if you wanna talk, call me.” Stiles appreciated the offer, he really did, but he just didn’t want to talk about his feelings for the Alpha, knowing there was no way they would ever be reciprocated.

Yeah, Derek may tolerate or even like him but that was as far as this would go. There was no need to put himself out there just to be rejected. No, he would need to keep a tight lid on his feelings.

Which wasn’t all too easy when Derek looked at him through those piercing eyes. 

The pack cleared out around one in the morning. Stiles’ Dad was doing his weekly all-nighter which meant nobody was there to kick them out.

Well, besides Derek, who had more than once made it known quite insistently that he was indeed capable of grabbing them by the neck and kicking their sorry asses out of the house if they slumped around any longer. Stiles had trouble hiding his smile behind his hands when Derek carried Isaac to Scott’s car and let him down on the passenger-seat. He loved that Derek finally embraced his role as their Alpha and looked after his Betas.

Isaac, especially, had taken to him rather strongly. Stiles knew that Derek had already adopted the curly-wolf in all but name anyway.

“You wanna stay, Sourwolf?” Derek commented on that with a raised eyebrow that, as hard as Isaac may try, only Derek truly mastered.

“My Dad’s not gonna be home and I-“ he trailed off, scratched his head. He didn’t want to sound weak but these last months hadn’t been easy.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Derek asked, which completely threw Stiles off.

“Calling you what? Sourwolf?” Derek nodded.

“I don’t know- it just… it kinda stuck. And you’re always like- grumbling and then your eyebrows do that thing” he gestured towards Derek’s forehead.

“Exactly.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Stiles rolled his eyes. “I can stop if you want- it’s not-“

“No, I- I don’t mind…” Derek said. Stiles couldn’t tell in the dim lighting but he was almost sure that Derek was blushing.

“Kaaay, so how about that staying thing I asked you about?” He hated how it sounded. Derek seemed confused but agreed nonetheless. After doing the dishes and taking a shower, Stiles walked out of the bathroom in his t-shirt and boxers.

He jumped when he found Derek sitting on his bed and staring at him with a dark look on his face.

“Shit! Derek, don’t scare me like that!” If he didn’t know any better, he would say Derek was amused and not the least bit sorry.

“So… you wanna have the couch? I have-“

“I thought I could stay here with you, since you haven’t told me the actual reason why you wanted me around in the first place.” The rush of heat to Stiles’ cheeks was burning hot. Still, he refused to be embarrassed. There was nothing wrong with asking a friend for a favour. Even a friend who you maybe had a tiny crush on.

“Am I not allowed to simply crave your company, oh Alpha mine?” Derek simply raised that infuriating eyebrow again.

“Alright! Fine! I don’t want to be alone. I’ve had nightmares for weeks on end now. And after those hunters came into town and nearly beheaded Jackson, I don’t feel safe anymore. And I know Scott is all for that _let’s smoke some weed and hug it out_ way of dealing with those things but I’m not. Because there is a reason, okay? I mean, how many times do we have to fight them until they back off? And I know you can take them and you have already and I get it- you’re that big strong Alpha and nothing will get the jump on you but I’m human. What if they come here? There’s nothing I can do to stop them from hurting my Dad or me and I hate how that feels! I hate it so much!” Derek’s arms wrapped around him tightly and he let himself be pulled down. “I just can’t- Derek, I…”

“Shhh.” Derek whispered into his ear while rocking him softly.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He hated this feeling. And now, Derek would think he was weak.

“You’re not weak. I don’t think that.” Oh, so he had said that out loud then. Great.

“Stiles, I- I get them too, you know? The nightmares. And yes, I can take them but that doesn’t mean I’m not- that I’m not scared of them.” Stiles froze in Derek’s arms. He never thought Derek would ever trust him enough to admit that.

“There is nothing wrong with you. You are not weak.” He said again and again like a mantra. Stiles didn’t know how long it took until his breathing evened out and his sight wasn’t blurry anymore. He climbed off of Derek, suddenly aware of how awkward the situation was.

“Scoot over.” Derek said before Stiles could once again offer the couch.

“What?”

“Scoot over.” Stiles did as he was told and Derek got under the covers with him. Immediately, Derek’s radiating body heat made Stiles feel warm all over.

“Do you mind if I-“ Derek murmured into the silence.

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” He turned around as if the issue was resolved. He should have known that Stiles wasn’t one to let something like this go easily.

So it was no miracle that after five minutes of pestering and two minutes of Stile’s finger poking Derek’s arm, Derek whipped around to glare at Stiles- not that he could see that in the dark, but he assumed anyway- and snarled: “What?”

“Do I mind if you what?”

Derek huffed- which in Stiles’ eyes was equal to admitting defeat and said: “Cuddle.”

_What?_

Stiles thought, he had blacked out there for a second- or had a stroke because there was no way, Derek had just asked him to cuddle. When Stiles didn’t answer, Derek tried to turn back around.

“No- no, wait. I just didn’t- I never thought you’d want that. To be honest, I thought you’d rip my arm out if I even so much as breathed on your side of the bed.” Stiles laughed nervously. Suddenly, an arm was around his shoulder and he was pulled flushed against Derek’s chest. He really liked that position. That way, he could feel Derek’s heart beat steadily. It calmed him down, gave him a sense of safety he hadn’t had for such a long time.

“Sleep.” Derek grumbled and sounded for all the world as if he wasn’t just nuzzling Stiles’ neck. Stiles needed a minute to regulate his own frantic heart beat but when he did, he relaxed against the Alpha plastered against his back.

“Good Night, Stiles.” Derek whispered softly. Before he could even repeat anything, he felt his lids drop. Sleep came fast that night. For the first time in months, Stiles didn’t have any nightmares.

 

* * *

 

The store didn’t have any Reese’s and Stiles was forced to buy regular chocolate and some peanut butter. He was seriously pissed off. How dare they run out of his favourite sweets when he needed them. And today of all days. He threw his groceries on the passenger seat and climbed into Roscoe, only to hit his head on the roof and wince in pain when it connected hard with the door frame. He wasn’t even remotely surprised when Roscoe didn’t start.

Even after gently talking to the Jeep– before yelling, kicking the tire and slamming the door close– it wouldn’t move. He really should have known that nothing good would come from a day where everything else had already gone wrong. Something about today had screamed disaster to him from the moment he had stumbled out of bed to no breakfast because they were out of eggs. Grumbling to himself, he fished his mobile form his pocket and dialed the first number that popped up.

A grumpy “Stiles” on the other end of the line made him smirk. Of course he would automatically call Derek of all people.

“Heeeey, Derek.” He could practically see Derek roll his eyes at him.

“What.” It amazed Stiles still to this day, how Derek could pronounce a question without any inflection– must be a Hale-trait, considering Cora did the same thing.

“So, I know you said, you’d have a look at the Jeep next time when I came over and that I shouldn’t drive it anywhere but I had this weird craving for some buttercups because today really sucked but they didn’t have any and now I’m kinda stuck in the parking lot ‘cause Roscoe won’t start and I thought, hey why not call my favourite mechanic?”

Derek breathed in deeply, without a doubt wanting to throw himself into a lecture containing the words: “I told you so,” but Stiles had already rambled on.

“So, uh could you maybe, pretty please, come get me and have a look at the car while you’re at it”

“Did it ever in your life occur to you that maybe- just maybe- I know what I’m talking about and you don’t?”

Before Stiles could even say anything to that, Derek stopped him: “Don’t answer that. I’m already out of the door. Just stay where you are.”

Stiles heard the door of the Camaro– and wasn’t it strange that he knew that car by sound?– close when Derek continued “And so help me, Stiles if you’re not there when I arrive or if I find you anywhere but inside your car with the doors locked, I’m gonna rip your throat out.”

“Yes, with your teeth and yadda yadda. I know the drill, Sourwolf.” Derek huffed something akin to a laugh but didn’t comment. Stiles was already back in the car anyway. After Derek had been,  attacked everyone of the pack had been instructed to stay safe– Stiles specifically– and to stay outside the relative safety of this metal trap was frankly even too foolish for Stiles.

“Thanks, Derek. Drive safe.” He couldn’t help but smile when Derek promised him he’d be there shortly.

As it turned out, Derek couldn’t fix the Jeep without any tools and he had left them at home, since he had thought it to be a minor issue. Well, now Stiles sat beside Derek in the Camaro and tried not to scowl when Derek drove constantly under the speed limit, even though there was no cop in sight.

“Honestly, Derek. You know I’m not one for speeding but you could at least drive a little faster.”

“I don’t like to go over the speed limit,” Derek answered and Stiles felt something warm bubble inside him at the red tips of Derek’s ears. It was adorable– the big bad wolf didn’t want to break a rule.

They reached the Stilinski-house just when the sun completely disappeared behind the hills. Stiles was half way out of his seat when he figured he wanted to thank Derek for his quick rescue.

“Uh you wanna have dinner? With me?” Derek looked as if Stiles was possessed again.

“I mean, you don’t have to- I just thought, you know? You came all the way out for me and Dad’s not here tonight anyway and maybe you’d wanna eat? I can make pasta…” All of a sudden it was incredibly hot in the car even though Stiles had been shivering from the cold air that came in the still open door just a moment ago.

“I-“ Derek stopped, got that constipated look on his face again and then his eyebrows did something Stiles couldn’t decipher.

Instead of a verbal answer, Derek got out of the car, grabbed the groceries from the trunk and power-walked towards the door, when he realised that Stiles was still only halfway out of the passenger seat. With burning cheeks Derek turned around, stalked back to haul Stiles out of the car and then followed him back to the door.

Stiles had a hard time containing his laugh at the sight Derek made with his arms full of groceries– baguette sticking out from under his arm– and a red face.

Derek leaned over his shoulder to peek inside the pot on the stove.

“Smells good.” he said with a smile and Stiles nearly had a heart attack. He had been holding a spoon, wanting to taste the sauce, when the wolf had suddenly plastered himself to his back. Needless to say, the spoon fell straight into the pot, the sauce splashed everywhere, including Stile’s nose and he whipped around to face Derek, already yelling.

“Seriously, Derek. We’ve talked about this. Fucking wolves.”

Derek had the nerve to laugh at his indignation but after wiping the sauce off his face, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You missed some,” Derek said and was suddenly in front of him, close enough that Stiles could count every shade of green in those infuriatingly multi-coloured eyes.

“Chrm Chrm.” An amused cough at the door made them jump away from each other as if burned.

“Uh… Dad, hi we…”

"Sheriff, hello- I…” they both stumbled over their words when faced with the Sheriff, who didn’t look half as mad as Stiles thought he would.

“Do I smell pasta?”

Stiles could only nod his affirmation when his dad turned to Derek and said: “Son, I think I told you ten times already to call me John.”

Derek blushed prettily– yes, Stiles had thought it and he would stick with it, sue him.

Dinner was a surprisingly nice affair. The Sheriff didn’t grill Derek and didn’t embarrass Stiles with any childhood stories– and he had enough of them, don’t you think he didn’t.

“So, Derek, you ever think about getting a job?”

“Dad!” Stiles intervened, shocked at his father’s blatant-

“Relax, son. I’m not judging you. It’s just, you see, we're short a few deputies and there is this thing on another murder spree which we have no chance of ganking without some assistance. So, I thought with your…” he gestured to Derek’s everything “qualities, you’d make a good cop.”

Stiles’ jaw was somewhere on the floor. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that himself.

Also, Derek in a police uniform was just-

“I- I don’t know if I’m…” Derek trailed off, seemingly uncomfortable.

“I’ll talk with the department, put a good word in for you- they’ll hire you on the spot.” The Sheriff stood up to get some more pasta. Stiles immediately scooted closer to Derek, concerned the wolf was about to bolt from the dining table.

“Derek, you don’t have to. I can talk to my Dad, if you-“

“No, I- I do need a job and I think maybe this could be good?” He looked so lost that Stiles’ heart ached for him.

“You’d be brilliant, Sourwolf. Just you wait.” Something in Derek’s face relaxed at Stiles’ words.

“You really think that?”

“Yes.”

Derek’s eyes were glued to his chest when his heart didn’t stutter. Slowly but surely, a smile spread on his face, lighting up his features to the point where Stiles thought he was truly beautiful.  

* * *

 

Stiles was on his way home. School had run longer than usual which was probably due to his detention but anyway, he desperately wanted to flop down on the couch and watch some TV. Before he could even grab the remote, his phone rang with Derek’s ringtone.

“Stiles! Stiles, where are you?”

“I just got home, what’s-“ there was a crashing sound in the background followed by– what he supposed was– Jackson’s cursing.

“Derek, what’s going on?” he couldn’t help his stomach plummeting.

“Stiles! Are you home?” Scott suddenly yelled into the receiver.

“Yes! What’s going on?”

“Stay there! I’ll call you when-“ but he would never know when Scott was gonna call because the call ended suddenly. Stiles had never redialled so fast in his life but nobody answered.

Plan B fell into motion. Danny– bless the guy– immediately answered, already typing when Stiles demanded to track Derek’s phone.

He heard them even before the clearing came into view. Scott– he was pretty sure it was Scott– howled so loudly, Stiles swore he saw the trees shaking. The Jeep’s tires screeched with how fast he was driving on the uneven ground.

They must have heard him coming because Derek ripped the door open to yell at him before the car even came to a halt.

“Back! You will drive back NOW!” he roared, eyes flashing red. Stiles grabbed for his bat and shoved Derek– who was too shocked to react– out of the way.

“Listen to me! Stiles! GO HOME!” but Stiles kept running towards the fight, heard Jackson howl in pain, saw Allison on the ground trying to stop the bleeding on Erica’s arm.

“STILES!” The thing– there was no other word for it– moved incredibly fast. No wolf could keep up with it when it whirled around biting and clawing at everything in its way.

Stiles shivered when he stared into sickly green eyes. Even though the thing looked human, there was something severely off about it. The way it moved, the teeth, all of it was screaming danger. He felt fingers on his arm but shoved them away.

Just then, something golden ran past him, directly towards the thing but it wasn’t fast enough. The thing in their middle whipped around, claws at the ready. And it would have hit its mark. It definitely would have, if Stiles hadn’t bodily shoved Isaac out of the way. It worked, but only barely. Isaac hadn’t paid attention to him, so focused on his target that he missed Stiles running into him and nearly catapulting him to the side.

Stiles felt the claws breach his skin, followed by searing pain. He was on his knees in an instant, screaming and clutching at his left side. Tears burned in his eyes, blood spilled over his hands. Strong arms hauled him up and out of harms way.

_Derek._

The wolf grouched down in front of him, ready to pounce. But then something odd happened that had Stiles concentrate on the sight in front of him with anything he had left that wasn’t consumed by pain. Because the thing stopped. It simply stood there, motionless and stared at Derek. Stiles couldn’t pinpoint what it saw but there must have been something.

All of a sudden, the thing grinned down at him with a nasty snarl, showing off teeth that were dangerously sharp- one tooth in the lower jaw sticking out oddly- and disappeared like it had never been there in the first place. His body seemed to register that there was no immediate danger around.

The pain came back full force, his breath was short.

Derek barely had time to turn and catch him when his vision went black.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles hated hospitals. The beeping of the monitor to his right, the smell of death combined with those god-awful green walls. A voice mumbled something he at first didn’t understand. It became clearer, the harder he tried to pry his eyes open.

“Stiles!” Soft brown eyes and a square jaw came into view. He instantly relaxed.

“You idiot,” yep that was Jackson, back in top-form. Stiles had never been so glad to hear him bitch. His howl of pain still replayed in Stiles' head.

“If you ever scare me like that Batman, I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to you.” Erica roared somewhere on his left. He blinked twice and saw the entirety of his pack– which was a feet not easily accomplished– crammed into his hospital room.

“That was a badass move,” Aiden chuckled, which earned him a sharp slap on the arm from his favourite strawberry-blonde goddess.

“Hey guys…” his voice sounded as if he had swallowed nails.

“Don’t talk.” Ah there it was, that voice he had been listening for. Scott tensed at his side, presumably at the way Derek scowled at everyone in the room– not that this wasn’t usual, but still.

Before the situation could escalate, Melissa opened the door and shooed them out, apart from Derek, who refused to leave. Stiles knew then that he was in for the lecture he had really wanted to avoid. He threw himself into an explanation before Derek could even open his mouth properly.

“Ok, ok I know- but before you say anything, I really-“

“Shut up!” The Alpha was by his side in an instant, still scowling but something in his eyes softened. 

“Don’t do it again.” Stiles wasn’t sure, he was supposed to have heard the quiet whisper.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled “I had to.” Derek shook his head, the defiant gleam in his eyes back again.

“I had it under control. There was no need for you to run in like that. Again. After last time-“

“It wasn’t the same and you know it. How would you feel getting that call and having no idea what was happening?” he had a hard time keeping his voice down.

“Why call me anyway? If you wanted me home, why call?”

“Because I needed to know you were safe!” Derek snapped with a hint of fangs in his mouth. He breathed in through his nose, before he continued.

“I needed you safe. At home. Which you were supposed to be and stay at.” Stiles wanted to defend himself, wanted to explain to Derek that no matter what he thought, Stiles would always want to help his pack, especially, when they fought, but his eyes fluttered close once again, the exertion already too much.

When he woke up for the second time, his dad sat beside him, reading his morning paper.

“Jesus kid.” the Sheriff murmured, his hand ruffling Stiles’ hair absentmindedly.

“Sorry, Dad.” Stiles said sheepishly. He didn’t want his father to worry but sometimes it was simply inevitable.

“Do you really have to throw yourself into this every time? Let them handle it for once.” There was unmistakable fear in his voice, barely disguised and it had Stiles' insides clench with guilt.

“I’m really sorry. I just- when they called I- I couldn’t…”

But the Sheriff stopped him before he could finish the sentence “I know, son. Believe me, I know but you have to- I need you to look after yourself too.”

He wanted to promise, wanted to reassure his father that he did look after himself but the Sheriff cut him off again.

“I know you say the same thing to Derek. So, think about it this way: they wouldn’t survive without you and you are breakable so you have to be careful too. Because we’d be lost without you.” Stiles felt the tears pool in his eyes and wanted to wipe them away but the Sheriff was smiling like he truly understood. And suddenly, it was okay. Because they were his family and he was allowed to feel protective of them.

“I’ll try, Dad. Promise.” And he would. He would try.

The day he was released, his Jeep waited for him in the parking lot with a grumpy looking Derek in the driver’s seat and a beaming Isaac in the back.

“Stiles!” the pup jumped out and threw his arms around the human, nearly crushing him in the process.

“Derek allowed me to come with today! And I have curly fries and a shake in the back.” Stiles felt a flutter of warmth at Isaac’s enthusiasm. The kid really was precious.

“Get in.” Derek barked.

“Well, hello to you too, Sourwolf.” Derek’s lips twitched and Stiles counted it as a win. They reached his house in typical Derek time– not going over the speed limit will do that to you– and Derek held the door open for him which Isaac commented with a snicker. To Stiles’ surprise, Derek announced he would be in the kitchen preparing lunch. Isaac cuddled up to him on the couch, careful not to lean against his left side.

“Thank you.” he whispered into the crook of Stiles’ neck. Stiles tightened the hold he had on the wolf and smiled into the curls of his hair.

“Always.”

When Stiles looked up, Derek stood in the doorway, an apron around his waist and a bowl of something in his hands. But that was not what caught Stiles’ attention. No, it was the genuine smile on his face, the warmth in his eyes that made Stiles’ heart suddenly beat twice as fast.

Never had he seen Derek look at anything like that and it felt incredible to have it directed at him.

He would give his right arm and then some to put that smile on Derek’s face every day from here on out.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles couldn’t sleep. He curled into a ball and buried his head under the blanket but it didn’t help. Annoyed, he threw the blanket away– it was too hot for so much material on top of him anyway– and nearly had a heart attack when he saw a dark figure lurk on his window still. The shock quickly passed when he recognised the familiar leather jacket.

“Dude, didn’t we have the discussion already? How many times have I told you- and I mean you specifically– not to be a creeper-wolf and use the front door or the phone for fuck’s sake. Seriously, Derek it’s creepy.”

Derek simply smirked at him and raised an eyebrow at his state of undress.

_Oh well, nothing to do about it now._

“I came by, to make sure you’re okay.”

That was surprisingly thoughtful.

“Good. I’m good.”

“Lie.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Fine, you walking lie detector. It hurts like a bitch and I can’t sleep.” Derek laughed at that, then sat down on the bed.

“If you hadn’t run in– like I specifically forbid you to– then you wouldn’t-“

“I know, believe me, I know. But I had to. It was gonna hurt Isaac. I couldn’t…” he huffed and sat down beside Derek.

“I want you to train me.” Stiles said and watched the grin fade from Derek’s lips.

“We’ve been over this. You don’t need training.” But Stiles had thought about this at length, had prepared a list of reasons why this needed to happen.

“But I do. If you had trained me, I would’ve known what to do and wouldn’t have needed to shove Isaac.” Derek didn’t answer, simply stared ahead in a refusal to meet Stiles’ eyes.

“Listen, Sourwolf. I trust you. And you trained all your Betas– for fuck’s sake you trained Scott– and it turned out well.”

“No.”

But Stiles was on a roll.

“Please. I- Derek I’m sick of staying home and hiding in the back when you guys risk your lives in front of me!”

Derek shot up from the bed, started pacing.

“You’re not supposed to help. You’re the brain we’re the muscle. You’re not supposed to-“

“Why not? Why the fuck not? Allison is human too, Lydia is-“

“Lydia is a banshee, Allison is a hunter!”

“My point exactly. Allison is human but she became a hunter by training. TRAINING, Derek.”

“Just stay home, Stiles!”

“No!”

“Yes! If you would just stay home nothing like this would happen!”

And Stiles wanted to yell back at him so badly for even saying this but he thought better of it. Yelling would get him nowhere.

Instead, he asked quietly: “Would you?”

Derek looked caught.

“It’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re just human!” Derek roared. Stiles flinched back at the intensity of the words, trying not to show how much it had sounded to him like an insult.

“You’re human, Stiles. And you behave like you’re invincible. We heal. You- it’s different with you.”

“So what? Why is that always the issue? I’m not weak, Derek. And I need you to understand that I can be an asset if you would just-“

“I SAID NO!” Stiles had rarely seen Derek this angry. And he didn’t understand it.

“I thought you wanted me safe. That’s the way to get me to be safe.”

“It’s not! You’ll just use it to fight more. I don’t want you to fight more. I don’t want you to fight at all. So, no- I won’t train you. And that is final.”

Stiles knew he had lost, even before Derek stopped talking.

“You should go.” Stiles opened the window, gestured for him to leave. He needed to regroup, needed a new plan. Derek would never train him, that much was clear bur that didn't mean nobody else would. And he knew just the right candidate for what he had in mind. 

“I- Stiles promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” Derek requested softly.

“You and I both know I can’t do that, Derek.”

He was angry, disappointed and his remark lacked his usual snark.

 

* * *

 

 

Ethan and Jackson arrived in that ridiculous Porsche and Stiles barely contained the eye roll when they stepped out like two underwear-models on the runway.

“Ready?” Jackson’s smirk made the hairs on Stiles’ arms stand but he nodded anyway. Three minutes later, Jackson had him pinned to the ground without breaking a sweat.

“You okay?” the wolf huffed. Stiles wriggled in his grip but couldn’t get up until the other loosened his grasp.

“Maybe start with defence and then do offence?” Ethan supplied helpfully. The former Alpha leaned against the fence of Stiles’ backyard and watched his boyfriend beat Stiles’ ass.

Stiles wanted to comment on how about Ethan get his own ass over here and teach him himself when Ethan did just that. His tips were actually helpful and Stiles didn’t go down quite that pathetically, like he had last time. Jackson helped him up and urged him to try again.

Nearly two hours later, Stiles dodged Jackson’s arm coming at him and somehow managed to kick his leg out under him so that Jackson lost his footing and fell, pulling Stiles with him. Stiles knew that this was likely due to surprise more than anything else, but fuck- he would take it.

“Good- really good.” Jackson congratulated after scrambling free from the mess of limbs he was buried under.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Ethan commented, but coming from him that was a huge compliment.

“You wanna continue tomorrow? I can send Aiden over too if you want?” Ethan offered. Jackson smiled at the other wolf with something Stiles would have called heart-eyes if it were anyone else. He knew, how hard it had been for Jackson to admit his feelings for the other boy and get his shit together to actually pursue a fully functional, actually healthy, relationship, so he didn’t want to give him a reason to feel mocked.

“Thank you, guys. It really means a lot to me…” he said instead and watched a genuine smile appear on Jackson’s face.

“Always happy to kick your ass, Stilinski.” Jackson elbowed him in the ribs– on his right side, avoiding the scratches that still weren’t fully healed.

Everything seemed to go exceptionally well, until Aiden– substituting for his brother– accidentally sunk his claws into Stiles’ arm. Both Aiden and Jackson frantically tried to stop the bleeding, panicking more than Stiles himself.

“He’s gonna kill me! _Shit_!” Aiden mumbled, while pressing a towel down on the scratch mark.

“Who’s gonna kill you?” Stiles asked, watching the pure look of horror on both their faces.

“Derek. If he finds out, I hurt you…” Aiden looked so genuinely concerned that Stiles reassured him for thirty minutes that he would not let Derek rip his head off. However, his promise didn’t seem to hold any merit, when Derek barged into his living room at nine in the evening, demanding he'd be shown the marks immediately.

 _“I told you!"_ he growled, "I told you over and over again, not to do anything stupid.” Stiles didn’t argue.

Derek looked livid.

“Who was it? Which of them?”

“Not gonna tell you.” He wouldn’t rat out his friends, when all they wanted to do was help him.

“Yes you will. This ends now. I won’t tolerate-“ Derek growled low in his throat when he finally got his hands on Stiles’ arm.

“I’ll kill all three of them.”

“Derek! Stop it!” Stiles grabbed for him, forcing him to look at Stiles.

“Calm down!”

Derek reluctantly sat down beside him, glared at the wound.

“I am your Alpha, I order you, to tell me which one of them did it.”

Stiles barely– barley!– stopped himself from laughing.

“You’re the Alpha? That’s what you’re going with? Well, Big Guy, I hate to break it to you but I’m not one of your wolves. You can’t order me to do anything.”

Derek was back to seething, fangs elongated and jaw clenched tightly.

“Tell me!”

“No Big Guy, can do.”

“You will not train anymore! I won’t allow it! They will stay away from your house. You will not call them and if I catch any of them even thinking about training you, I will make them run so many tracks in the preserve that not even their wolf healing will save them! Do you understand!”

Stiles was shocked at the severity in Derek’s gaze. To him, this wasn’t a big deal but Aiden had not been lying when he had said, Derek would have him for supper.

“You can’t-“

“Oh, but you’ll find I can. You might be human, Stiles but they are not.”

It hurt- to be shut down so condescendingly, as if Derek truly thought he was useless in a fight and would always be. He remembered his words from that day quite vividly.

_You’re all I’ve got._

Suddenly, he was angry. How dare Derek treat him like that? He had done so much for the pack, had proven himself over and over again even without special werewolf skills. And to hold his human status over him now, was unfair and uncalled for.

He turned to Derek, stood up to his full height and snarled: “Well maybe I should have let Peter give me the bite then.”

Derek recoiled so fast as if Stiles had slapped him.

And Stiles knew in that moment that Derek had just realised what he had implied.

“You don’t want to be a wolf. You never- I didn’t mean-“

“Oh but you did. Because you said to me that because I was human, I shouldn’t be fighting. Isn't that it? Isn't that what all of this is about? I’m the stupid little human that can't throw a decent punch and therefore I’m weak? Isn't that what you think of me?” Stiles yelled. Even thinking it hurt. He truly didn’t understand, why in the world Derek wouldn’t allow him to prepare himself for a fight that was undoubtedly going to happen– sooner or later. 

“You’re not weak, that’s not-“

“Then tell me! Tell me the real reason why you won’t train me, why you forbid your wolves from training me!” But Derek remained silent.

“Please, Derek- I just want to understand-“

The wolf shook his head and before Stiles could get another word out, he turned around and left.

That hurt more than any of the things Derek had said to him, even in the beginning. Although he didn’t know what was going on, he was certain that there was something Derek wasn’t saying.

And he would find out what it was.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next week, Stiles tried desperately to contact Derek. He called his phone, drove by his house– all to no avail. Erica distracted him with shopping when he made it as far as into the living room. She simply pulled him to the Camaro and drove off with him securely tucked into the passenger seat. Isaac looked sheepish when he said Derek was out but couldn’t tell him where to– which was such an obvious lie that Stiles didn’t bother to answer.

Ten days after that fatal confrontation, Stiles was driving his Jeep to the post office, to pick up his order from Amazon the mailman hadn’t delivered, when he noticed a black car following him. He took a few wrong turns to make sure he was indeed being followed. After all, he had been through so much, a little paranoia would be all too natural. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't all in his head. When he changed directions to go to the police station instead, the car sped up. Suddenly, it drove up beside him, coming closer until it connected with his Jeep. He nearly went off the road, swerving the car in the process. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He had no idea what was going on or why that car was trying to get him killed, so he slammed his foot on the brake, turned as fast as he could and drove in the other direction.

A few short seconds it looked like they would leave him be, but then the car picked up in speed again.

He cursed, grabbed for his mobile. They were nearly beside him again. The Jeep wouldn’t go any faster.

Blindly, he dialed the first number on his list.

He didn’t have much time. He saw them pressing up against him, pushing him off the street.

Finally, the call was answered.

"Heeey Derek, buddy.“ Stiles tried for casual but failed by a mile. A dark, hooded figure stared at him through the window on his side.

 _Fuck_.

They had him.

 _"What do you want, Stiles?“_ Derek sounded so annoyed and Stiles wanted to yell, wanted to kick and scream but he was suddenly quite calm.

"Are you busy, ‘cause I’m kinda in a situation here.“

He knew he wouldn’t make it.

There was no way to escape.

He only had one minute, maybe a bit more.

_"Stiles, I don’t have time for this“_

Derek’s words registered with a moment’s delay.

But when they did, pure panic swashed over him.

He needed Derek.

They fucking had him.

The Jeep was pushed off the road, trees were suddenly everywhere.

He tried again: "But, Derek I-"

_come on, come on, come on_

He needed Derek to listen.

Derek would listen.

He would come.

It didn’t matter that they had fought.

Derek would-

_"Goodbye Stiles!“_

 

**-Click-**

 


	2. I'm All You Need...

_"I don’t know what I’m more afraid of: to see you again or to never see you again..."_

 

 

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The steady noise of something dripping to the ground woke him up. With a jolt, he straightened his back. It took a minute but when he was fully conscious again, he noticed several things at one.

He was in a warehouse.

The dripping sound was water from a pipe to his left.

He had a large gash in his thigh.

Blood rushed in his ears.

He wanted to reach out to grab his head– there was a dull ache just above his left brow– but found his hands were bound to a pool behind him in an awkward angle. If he wasn’t mistaken, his right elbow felt broken but he couldn’t quite tell. The last few hours came back in a blur, the car swerving and crashing, the impact of his head against the steering wheel.

Derek hanging up.

He didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he looked around. The walls were blank, apart from some wires and pipes with god knows what in them. He was chained to a metal pole on the floor and couldn’t get out of it– he still tried to until his wrists started bleeding when the handcuffs cut the skin.

His head started throbbing stronger after a few moments. Stiles listened for anything that would offer information of his surroundings. Was he even in Beacon Hills? He had no idea how much time had passed, if he had been unconscious for long. He recognised the signals of an upcoming panic attack and distracted himself with counting the tiles he could see clearly.

After 24, his brain decided to shift its attention to the pain slowly spreading towards his upper thigh. Without wanting to, he looked down and whished instantly he hadn’t. Tears sprung to his eyes. Even through his jeans he could make out where the wound was the deepest.

Stiles fought vehemently against the tears spilling over. His lips trembled, he blinked, trying to breath so that the pain would go away, lessen to some degree at least. When it didn’t, he stared at the ceiling, willing to look at everything and anything but his thigh. All his hours of research on what to do when getting kidnapped and now he couldn’t remember a thing. His headache was getting stronger by the minute. He kept staring up and didn’t recognise the feeling until he blacked out again.

The next time he woke up, it wasn’t to an empty room– however much he would have preferred it to be. Three figures hovered over him, not bothered to hide their faces. He vaguely remembered two of them. He knew they should have killed them.

Seriously!

Fuck Scott and his no-killing-bullshit!

He was so fed up with this. Nevermind that they were grinning like the cat that got the canary. They could all go screw themselves.

Derek would-

Searing hot pain shot through him when their last conversation came back to him.

Derek wouldn’t do anything. If he even cared he had been abducted.

While he was still caught up in the memory of Derek’s annoyed tone, one stepped forward and hit him square in the jaw. There was a sickening crack and then his head lolled to the side. He tasted blood in his mouth. Disgusted, he spat it out, silently cheering when some of it landed on the hunter.

Even if Derek didn’t come, someone else would. Scott would miss him. Isaac would know when he didn’t come to their pack dinner.

Even Jackson would worry.

They would come for him.

 

 **-Crack-**  


His breath was punched out of his lungs. Something hard had crashed against his ribs. He tried not to cough because it hurt so bad but he couldn’t stop it. His body shook with the force of it. Still, no tears spilled over. He wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Stiles registered– even though barely through all the pain– that he wasn’t coughing up blood. That meant no rib had punctured his lung– thank fuck for small favours.

“You know why you’re here?” God, did he hate those bastards.

He turned away, refused to answer. Another hit to his shin made him howl in pain. They were not here to play.

“Ah, don’t be like that.” the hunter tutted. Stiles wanted to hit him. He wanted to hit him so bad.

“You see-“ he crouched in front of Stiles, pushed a strand of stray hair out of his face. It stuck to his head with all the sweat he’d been gathering.

“Unfortunately, we do need you alive.” Before Stiles could breathe a sigh of relief– they were obviously telling the truth, otherwise he would be dead already– the hunter continued.

“But– lucky for us– alive doesn’t mean in one piece.”

At his words, cold panic washed over him. He trashed in his bonds, cutting his wrists deeper in the process, struggled against the metal holding him back. He didn’t care that he hurt himself even more, that they were laughing at him.  

He needed to get out!

“Ohhhh, would you look at that.” the woman that stood behind the hunter, who was still crouched in front of him, cackled.

“Such a pretty toy, but not very smart.”

He fought harder.

The cuffs didn’t give.

Desperation slowly but surely made its way to his brain. There was nothing he could do. The realisation brought pain and a sense of hopelessness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

_There was nothing he could do…_

 

* * *

 

 

_The minute Derek disconnected the call, he hit his head against the wall._

_Why would Stiles continue to torment him like this?_

_Hadn’t he been clear in their last conversation?_

_He had seen the bruises on Stiles’ arms and had barely stopped himself from tearing Aiden to shreds. He hadn’t needed Stiles’ confirmation to know it had been the former Alpha. The idiot had come to him bearing gifts– cinnamon doughnuts– as a piece offering and an apology._

_Unconsciously, he licked his lips, the taste of them still oddly present. Had it been a few weeks earlier, he would have liked to share them with Stiles. Maybe, Stiles would have wanted to join him on the way to get dinner and then they could have gotten desert at the bakery together._

_Derek immediately disregarded the thought._

_He couldn’t afford to daydream like this. After all the efforts to make Stiles stay away, he couldn’t allow himself a relapse. He had been getting so well at ignoring the human in the last few weeks. The argument they had had still rung in his ears, Stiles’ scent turning sourly at the words thrown in anger. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh but in hindsight, it had helped keep Stiles at bay._

_After the incident with that monster, Derek wanted Stiles out of the way. He wanted him safely tucked into bed at home, not swinging his bat in a futile attempt to hit something twice as fast as Derek himself. His heart had nearly stopped when Stiles had pushed Isaac away and had gone down. That was a picture, he never wanted to see again._

_Never._

 

* * *

 

 

_Scott called around two in the morning. Derek was half-way out of bed, his hair a mess. He nearly fell down the stairs, stopped only by Peter’s hands on his arm, hurling him back._

_“What does that impertinent Alpha want at this god-forsaken hour? I need my beauty sleep.” His uncle stated but sat down beside him on the couch to listen to Scott frantically yelling into the phone._

_“Derek? Derek! Fuck- are you there? Is Stiles with you?” Derek’s eyebrows rose to his forehead. Why would Stiles be with him?_

_They hadn’t talked-_

_“No, he is not.” Peter supplied helpfully, grabbing the phone from Derek’s lax hand. Something in the atmosphere shifted. Derek felt it. Something was horribly wrong._

_“What- Slow down!- Scott, tell me again what happened. Where did you find it?” Peter sounded urgent. It made Derek’s heart nearly leap out of his chest._

_His uncle never– **never** – sounded urgent._

_But he did now._

_And that was not good._

_Not at all._

_The hairs on his arms rose, his fangs reached over his lips._

_“Come on!”_

_Peter was up and out of the door, before Scott’s words fully registered._

 

* * *

 

Once again, he didn’t know how much time had passed. He suspected it was somewhere in the night because no one came to look for him. To say he was grateful for a pause from the constant beating, the taunting words, was an understatement. It didn’t matter anyway how late it was. At least, it didn’t matter to him. Instead of figuring out which time it was, he concentrated on checking himself for any damage he could find.

Which was hard.

He hurt all over.

As much as he tried, he couldn’t differentiate between aching and pain. It all blended together.

Still, he tried his best to list every hit, every punch so that he knew when he was rescued what to tell Melissa. He needed to know about every little detail done to him for her to operate quickly. A few hours ago, he had realised that they would have to be fast, that if– _when, when, when, not if!_ he scolded himself– they found him, he likely wouldn’t have much time left. Sometime into the next hour, his vision started having bling spots.

At first, he didn’t even see it but when he turned his head to look around the room, his left-hand corner wouldn’t come into focus. In that moment, he prayed with all his might that it would go away if he only blinked enough times.

It didn’t.

He took a shuddering breath, forced all his willpower into focussing onto that particular corner. The tears were hot on his cheeks but he didn’t care.

He had held out long enough. Nobody was there to witness his silent break-down anyway.

If he couldn’t see– if he was going blind, he wouldn’t know what to do.

This couldn’t be it.

Why was all of this always happening to him?

He had been driving home for fuck’s sake– no funny business at all and he still got kidnapped!

His thoughts kept skipping from the phone call to the last hours, to Scott’s worried face. He hated it. He wanted out. And he wanted that damn blind spot to just disappear already.

The adrenaline slowly leaked from his system, leaving him dehydrated and tired.

The longest time, he fought to keep his eyes open. Maybe they were waiting for him to lose consciousness again so they could hurt him more.

He didn’t feel sleep coming over him until it was too late and his eyelids fluttered shut.  

 

* * *

 

 

_Scott’s howl echoed through the preserve, pained and broken like only an Alpha could sound like when one of his pack was hurt._

_Derek felt it too._

_Even though, Stiles was no wolf, he was intertwined with the pack bond and right now there was so much pain on his end of the string that Derek’s hands cramped around the steering wheel until the leather creaked. They reached Scott within minutes. Kira was already there, Isaac’s howl was somewhere close. Jackson and Ethan were on their way, Aiden and Lydia too._

_But Derek didn’t care._

_His sole focus was on Stiles’ connection to the pack._

_As long as he felt the pain, it meant Stiles was alive– he was still there. It was all Derek had to hold onto._

_“Listen! Derek!” Scott’s voice broke him out of his trance. The whole pack had assembled without him noticing– even now he was spacing out. Deaton, the Sheriff, Melissa– all of them were there._

_“No groups, we go together. I don’t care if it takes longer. We need to be safe. He wouldn’t want us rushing in when we don’t know how many there are.” Scott barked._

_“Who got him? Who are they?” Peter– thank fuck for him– asked. Scott’s jaw did that thing were Derek knew he was about to admit defeat._

_“The hunters-“ Derek didn’t have time to berate Scott for not killing them. It was useless anyway._

_“_ _You got their scent?” Scott nodded, already handing the piece of fabric to Isaac._

 _“_ _Stiles must have ripped it off them. He knew we’d find the Jeep.” Isaac concluded while memorising the scent._

 

* * *

 

 

A bucket of ice-cold water was doused over him. He gasped for air, jerking away from the hunter in front of him as far as he could go. It took a second for him to reorient himself.

He hadn’t dared to hope that it had been another one of his nightmares. Deep inside he had known that the pain felt entirely too real. But if he had taken time to think, if he had looked just a little closer, he would have realised that the blind corner in his eye was gone. He could see perfectly, even though that shouldn’t be possible.

“You know, we’d thought your wolves would be faster. After all, we left them a pretty good trace.”

“Why? Couldn’t even do your job properly?” Stiles hissed, speaking for the first time since they had brought him here. It got him a wicked right hook to the chin but it didn’t matter. Then the full impact of the words hit him:

They wanted the pack to find him.

They wanted them to come _here_.

“Look at that! We really did get the smart one.” The bitch with the taser snarled.

“Oh yes, honey-eyes. They will find you. _He_ will find you.”

Why?

Stiles didn’t get it. Either the hunters had a death wish or there was something going on that was bigger than he had thought. Who in their right mind kidnapped the human of a pack and then lured them-

**_Fuck!_ **

That’s why they needed him. To get the pack to find him. To get them here so that they could kill them, all together, all at once. It was the perfect trap. The pack would find the trace, would think Stiles had left it there and would follow it– running directly into the trap. In his frantic thinking, he didn’t pay attention to the slight change in pronouns.

Otherwise, he would have realised the whole plan behind it.

The hunter addressed him again with a dangerous glint in his eyes: “Oh but you don’t know the best part yet.”

 

* * *

 

 

_The scent followed the main road to a warehouse outside of Beacon Hills. Derek stopped in the middle of the road._

_This was too easy._

_Way too easy._

_If they truly wanted to get away with Stiles, they would have disguised their trail._

_Nobody was that stupid– especially not those hunters._

_It was a trap._

_It had to be._

_“Stop!” He hissed, causing Cora to run into Erica, who looked ready to rip her head off. Stiles’ absence was already getting to her and Derek couldn’t find it in him to fault her for it._

_“What is it?” Boyd asked from somewhere in the shadows._

_“_ _The Jeep was upside-down, there was blood. Do you really think, Stiles was able to rip off a piece of the hunter’s jacket and conveniently leave it for us to find? That they wouldn’t have noticed? That they wouldn't have hidden him elsewhere?”_

_“_ _It’s a trap.” Jackson spat, his eyes glowing already. It was obvious to everyone that he specifically wanted Stiles back in one piece. They had bonded over time. Somehow– Derek **still** didn’t understand exactly how that had worked out. _

_“Suppose that’s true, what are we gonna do?” They all looked at each other._

_“It doesn’t matter. He’s my best friend- he’s pack. I’ll go in.” Scott barked._

_“It’s a suicide mission!” Derek snapped at him._

_“So what?”_

_“You can’t do this to him! I’ll go!”_

_“Yeah, 'cause that’s so much better!” Scott scoffed at him. Derek didn’t understand how there was even a comparison. Scott was Stiles’ best friend, Derek was– well, his Alpha but that didn’t really count._

_"Neither of you goes in there alone. Either we all go in or no one does!” Lydia said, without losing her calm demeanour. If Derek hadn’t heard her heart jack-rabbit in her chest, he would have thought her to be utterly indifferent to the situation._

_“Then what? What do you suggest?” Scott turned to her like he always did when Stiles was out of commission– she wasn’t their resident genius for nothing._

_“Let's think this through._   _What do we know?” she countered. Suddenly, a scream cut through the air that even their human pack members heard._

_Derek saw red._

**_Stiles._ **

 

* * *

 

“You see, when they come here, they will find you– oh we won’t kill them, don’t you worry.” Stiles braced himself for the next sentence.

“But find you, they will. And sadly, you won’t look all too well.” Bile rose in his throat.

“In fact, I don’t know if you’ll even still be breathing.”

Something connected hard with his shin. He heard something break, barely contained the yell threating to escape from his lips. There was so much pain that he couldn't concentrate on anything else.

“The Alpha– _your_ Alpha– he will come in here and he will see you in all your beauty.” His insides clenched painfully.

Derek’s face whenever he talked about family.

Scott’s face when he found Laura’s head in the woods.

He didn’t want to be the cause of that. He never wanted them to hurt because of him. It didn’t matter which Alpha found him first.

“Hale won’t even have time to listen for your heart-beat. He’ll snap. And when he does, it won’t matter that you were his fuck-toy– I actually doubt he’ll want you after this anyway. That is, if you’re even alive.”

 ** _Derek_**.

They wanted it to be Derek. Not Scott. The Sourwolf. He was their target.

Because even though Scott was a True Alpha, Derek could shift, a born wolf with Hale-hereditary. Stiles could see it. Derek was the more dangerous enemy, the one who needed to be taken down first.

“Don’t give me that look. We watched you. All of you. We know how bad he has it for you.” The man must be mad. Stiles rolled his eyes.

_As if._

“Don’t you think the sight of your mutilated body will make him snap?” Stiles snorted a laugh. The hunter didn’t seem fazed.

“We’ll see anyway.” The taser connected with his chest suddenly. He barely had time to twist away from it, before the full impact of the electro shock hit him.

“He’ll make a beautiful sight…” the hunter laughed “all feral.”

And Stiles could picture it vividly. Not because he was Derek’s whatever but because he was pack.

Derek– who felt so guilty already– wouldn’t be able to bear yet another body on his conscience. Much less if he remembered Stiles calling him. He wished he could do something– anything– to make them stop. Not for his sake but for Derek’s.

Before he could catch his breath, the taser hit again.

This time, he screamed.

He screamed with all he had.

 

* * *

 

 

_He barely remembered running in. There was no one there. No one in his way. It occurred to him, while he was running through the building, that this was not normal either, that there should be goons to hold him off but he didn’t care._

_Stiles’ scent hung heavy in the air. He followed it to a room in the back, ripped open the door. There would be no day in Derek’s life when he would forget the image in front of him._

_He had seen Stiles injured, unconscious, bleeding but it was nothing compared to this. Red seeped into his eyes, a howl stuck in his throat. It hurt to even look at him. Claws, fangs, fur, all of it appeared within the span of a second. The wolf was fighting for control, ready to take over._

_“D-Derek.“ It was said so softly, so lifelessly that it made his insides break._

_His wolf howled in anguish._

**_Stiles._ **

_Stiles’ voice was what made him snap to attention, what had him fight through the red veil over his eyes. He fell to his knees, hands trembling. There was nothing he could touch that didn’t hurt, nothing he could do to help. Somewhere in his mind, he felt Scott's presence but it didn't matter. He fumbled with the cuffs, unable to loosen them. Then Isaac was suddenly by his side. The curly wolf made quick work of the handcuffs holding Stiles up._

_The human collapsed in Derek’s arms, clinging to him like a life-line. He felt his wolf back up, his control slowly returning. Stiles was barely breathing, his heart so quiet, he almost couldn’t hear. But he kept listening closely, even when Scott attempted to take Stiles from him, he wouldn’t let go. He needed to stay with Stiles._

_Nothing else mattered._

_He drove faster than he ever had in his life. Melissa and the Sheriff held an unconscious Stiles on their laps in his backseat. For the first time, he didn’t give a flying fuck about a speed limit. When the Sheriff’s mobile rang, he nearly drove the car off the street. Something about this, had triggered his memory._

_Stiles had called him. And he had hung up._

**_He had hung up!_ **

_Stiles had been in danger and he had hung up on him. Somehow, he hadn’t realised before. But now, now he couldn’t think straight anymore._

_A warm hand on his shoulder made him whip around._

_“Breathe, Derek.” Melissa whispered softly, fear in her eyes. He hadn’t even felt the steering wheel crack under his fingers. He got himself under control but only because Stiles needed a doctor and they were running out of time. He would not let Stiles die in this car._

_Scratch that._

_He would not let Stiles die, period._

_They reached the hospital and ran in without even looking at the clerk at the registration desk. Melissa called for a doctor, opening doors for Derek carrying Stiles in his arms as if he was his most precious possession in the world. Derek would always remember the hours he had to wait in front of the OP, listening to Stiles’ heart beat so weakly and the murmurs of the doctors inside. The Sheriff sat beside him, pale in the face and shivering. He wanted to reach out, to reassure but he couldn’t._

_Because it was Stiles who was in there. Stiles who had been kidnapped because he hadn’t listened._

_It would forever haunt him, what nearly happened, what had happened because he had been so stubborn._

_He would never forgive himself._

_Stiles was put in a single room, paid by Derek after an intense eye-staring-contest with the Sheriff and didn’t wake up for three days. The wolves came by whenever they could, scenting him, drawing pain as much as possible so that he would wake up sooner. It was living hell._

_Even Peter seemed on edge. Derek suspected it was because Stiles had always been his favourite._

_The Sheriff called on late on Tuesday night. Derek was on his way over already and nearly leapt out of the car the minute the engine stopped. He was shushed upon entering. Stiles sat in the bed, blinking at him through swollen eyes. Derek didn’t recall the last time, Stiles had looked that bad. He wanted to hurl, to hide somewhere._

_“Hey, Sourwolf. Funny seeing you here.” Stiles attempted to joke but it fell flat._

_“I need to tell the pack what they said to me but I don’t feel up for it just yet. Can you put them off for the night?” Derek could clearly see the strain talking this much put on him and rushed over to draw his pain instantly._

_“When you’re ready.” He promised and saw the Sheriff give him a pensive look at the way he held Stiles’ hand in his._

_“Derek, son– can I talk to you for a minute, outside.” He complied but only after Stiles’ breathing evened out and he sunk back against the pillows. The minute, the door closed, the Sheriff turned to him._

_“How long?” He didn’t even try to deny it. It wouldn’t do anyway. John wasn’t the Sheriff for nothing._

_“Long enough.” He prepared himself for getting shot but was surprised when he was met with a hesitant smile and a nod._

_“I would threaten you, I actually looked forward to it and I'm slightly mad that you have robbed me of that glorious opportunity. But I have a feeling that if there is one person in the world more protective of him than me, it would be you.”_

_Heat rose to his face._

_“_ _I appreciate it and deep down he does too.” Derek wanted to disagree but he hadn’t even opened his mouth before the Sheriff continued._

_“Just a piece of advise when it comes to my menace of a son: Let him make his own decisions. He hates thinking he’s not good enough.” Silence hung heavy between them when the full impact of the words dawned on Derek. He knew that about Stiles but he hadn’t realised Stiles would think that._

_And it was essentially what he had done._

_Still, if that was the only way to protect him, he would suffer the consequences._

_Stiles would be safe._

_Even if it meant not being with him._

 

* * *

 

 

After spending two weeks in the hospital, he was released. His father had reported each and every attack of the monster still running free back to him. The town had declared a curfew but people still went out in the streets after eleven.

It resulted into numerous attacks with people dying from heart failure without having symptoms. Stiles knew, the wolves patrolled the streets every night but the monster was always faster, more intelligent. The longer it went on, the less people stayed out after dark. So when Stiles drove home one night, after a pack meeting, he only had Jackson in his Beta-shift for company.

The streets of Beacon Hills were empty.

Back at home, he consulted his books once again, drew diagrams, put his old board up and spun garn– blue was still just pretty– through his room. When Lydia came by to help, he realised he had missed figuring these things out, even though he could do with the pile of bodies accompanying the puzzle.

So far, they had concluded: the only thing that connected the victims and the monster was the claw marks on each one of them. Stiles had thrown himself into research, reading the bestiary with Allison, discussing monsters with Chris and talking mythology with Peter and Deaton respectively.

It was all for naught.

Nothing came of it.

He hadn’t found any lead yet and it frustrated him. Meanwhile, the pack was on a hunt for the hunters– ironically– but they seemed to have vanished into thin air. Stiles didn’t want to be involved in that, everything connecting to that warehouse was locked away in his mind so that he would never have to think about it again.

At least it was that way after having to re-tell the story for the pack to hear.

The pack had listened to his recap of what the hunters had said with wide eyes. Even though, he hadn’t wanted to, he had told the story exactly how he had perceived it had happened. To the point where Derek’s claws had cut into his hands and Scott’s fangs had elongated at the mention of the plan of turning the Alpha feral.

They had all held their breath collectively when Lydia had asked the inevitable question: “Who, Stiles? Which Alpha did they want feral?”

His heart had broken in his chest when he had looked Derek right in the eye and had seen the wolf’s pain reflected in his face.

“Me. It was me.” Derek had figured, a crack in his voice.

“Of course it was me…” he had whispered, shell shocked. Stiles had wanted to take it back, to lie so that he wouldn’t have had to witness the guilt visible in Derek’s every move. But they had had to know.

* * *

 

_Derek came into the room through the hallway, not the window because the Sheriff had spied him from across the yard and had waved him over. He stared at Stiles’ form, illuminated by the moonlight and was once more surprised by how peaceful he looked. Even after being so brutally attacked– and not for the first time– he still slept soundly. Derek remembered the Nogitsune, how it had changed him forever._

_But one thing that would always be inherently Stiles was that he rarely worried for himself. Now, after getting abducted, he slept better than after being used by the fox to hurt others. It was one of the things, Derek had fallen in love with. If there was anyone in the pack, he knew would never deliberately hurt him, it was Stiles. Never had he met a human so willing to stand his ground against the supernatural, without any regards to his personal safety._

_It was why he was so scared for Stiles all the time._

_Not because he couldn’t hold his own, but because he would sacrifice himself for his friends._

_For a long time, Derek hadn’t deemed it possible for such people to exist. So when Stiles stumbled his way into Derek’s life, he had pulled the rug out from under his feet and hadn’t put it back every since. He stepped into the room, saw Stiles tense minutely as if registering another’s presence._

_F_ _or a second, he contemplated leaving but that meant, Stiles would be in pain the whole night through. Deep in thoughts, the wolf sat down softly beside Stiles. He reached out to draw some of the pain still visible in Stiles’ aborted movements._

_Stiles instantly relaxed against the pillow, as if aware even in his sleep that Derek would cause him no harm. He stayed for a while, content with watching over him. Maybe he would never know what it was like to be invited into this bed, to wake up in the morning, snuggled against Stiles and being loved by him but that was alright. Stiles was safe for as long as Derek could protect him._

_And protect him, he would._

_Even if it cost him everything._

 

* * *

 

 

The pack– minus Derek– was assembled in his room, staring him down where he sat on his bed.

“What?” he had no idea why the wolves looked as if he had kicked their favourite puppy– which, in their mind, would most probably be Isaac.

“Why are you not talking to Derek? I thought after that whole carrying you to safety incident, you would be all over each other.” Erica demanded to know.

“Again.” Peter unhelpfully commented.

“It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s really not.” Body said.

“Listen. There’s just some things that happened that are- that I can’t just forget, okay?”

“What things?” He wanted to deflect, to find an excuse so that he wouldn’t have to rehash everything that had happened but everyone in the room had an equal look of determination on their face. So he threw himself into a recapitulation of the events that had occurred, over training, Derek’s outburst, the phone call, everything. He was met with a mixture of exasperation and sheepishness.

“Huh.” Scott stared at him with one of the worst puppy eyes he had in his arsenal.

“So, if that’s all then you guys can leave me to my research.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no? There is nothing to talk about anymore. He doesn’t want me around. He still thinks I’m this sixteen-year-old stupid boy that doesn’t know right from wrong and runs with a bat made out of wood.”

All the wolves, Lydia included, looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

“Are you really that daft?” the banshee asked.

“Don’t answer that, it was a rhetorical question.” She waved a perfectly manicured hand in front of his face.

“He doesn’t think that. In fact, I’m pretty sure he didn’t think that when you were sixteen either. You are the only one who doesn’t see your own worth. Hell, even Jackson sees it.” Jackson rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed to be included in such a way but nodded at Stiles nonetheless. He felt his face heat up.

“Derek sees what you bring to the pack. He knows how smart you are. Why do you think he always consults with you– and only you– before every fight? Because he trusts you to have the pack’s best interest at heart, that you are the one who will have his back. We are his pack, yes, but it’s you who he trusts most. And he always has. It wasn’t Scott’s house he came to when he was on the run. It was yours.”

“Then why does he always want me to stay at home when you guys go into a fight. I can be helpful.”

“Yes. Yes, you are. But you are breakable. You don’t heal as fast as we do. You don’t hear a lie, you don’t smell the danger. You have to rely on your gut and sometimes that isn’t fast enough.” Isaac said, looking apologetic.

“He hates seeing you hurt. He can’t stand it.” Ethan stated, like he did everything else, with no inflection and a look on his face as if they were discussing the weather.

“It’s not that he doesn’t trust that you can pull your weight. It’s that he doesn’t want you to because you’ll get hurt when you do.” He needed a moment to let that sink in.

“I still don’t understand why that would mean he has feelings for me. All you’ve said could be true for every single one of you. Yeah, maybe he trusts me more but so what? Doesn’t mean he has feelings for me.”

Erica scoffed.

“Did you not listen? Trust is literally the biggest thing for my brother. I’m not even sure he trusts me– his sister! But you? Oh you had him even before you held him up in that pool.” Stiles looked incredulously at her.

“Don’t give me that look. What do you think, how many times I had to listen to him tell me that stupid story of how a skinny little human saved him that night? Pretty sure he was planning to propose before you decided to shove Isaac out of the way to get hit by monster claws.” Stiles rolled his eyes for the hundredth time.

They didn’t get it. Just because they had moved from enemies to allies– and the love of his life on Stiles’ part– didn’t mean that Derek liked him any more than he had five years ago.

“Don’t! Stiles, he likes you. He smells happy every time you’re in the room. His heart beats faster when show up. You’re the one he looks for wherever we are. We all see it. _You_ see it. So why are you so stubborn to believe it?”  

“Because there is no way– no way in hell– that Derek likes me!” he snapped. Because he didn’t see it. They had to be wrong.

“If you really don’t want to believe us, then do you believe the hunters? Or do you think they were just amateurs speculating that their plan would work out by some miracle?” Lydia cut in.

“The hunters? Why-“ Stiles asked but was immediately cut off by a “Fuck it!” from the other side of the room. He saw Cora’s eyes glow golden with rage.

“Because they were right!” Cora yelled at him, making everyone in the room get dead silent.

“Because they were right. Stiles! And you’re the only one who doesn’t get it.” She sat down beside him.

“They nearly got him. Not because you’re pack. Because he loves you. Fuck. He is so head over heels for you that it would be ridiculous if you both wouldn’t make each other miserable.”

Stiles opened his mouth to disagree again, to say they were mad but was cut off.

“No! I’ve had it with the two of you!” Lydia screeched.

“I get that he took your choice away from you! I get that he hung up on you! I get that! What I don’t get is how you can sit here and blatantly deny that he has feelings for you! I know you, Stilinski! And you are one of the very few people in this world I consider to be equally intelligent to me! So don’t act as if you have the emotional awareness of a three year old.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway, okay? Even if you are right­– which you are not! But even if you are, it doesn’t mean anything. He evidently doesn’t want to be with me, otherwise he would have said something.”

Erica and Cora both looked ready to punch him in the face or whack him over the head– which made him feel slightly uneasy.

“Are you serious? Derek– who lost almost his entire family in a fire caused by his girlfriend– Derek who fucked a darach and nearly got everyone, himself included, killed– Derek who thinks every bad thing that happens, everything that goes wrong is for some reason always and without fail his fault? That Derek?” Erica was out of breath when she stopped ranting.

“I just-“

“No. Just no. He is so far in his own head that he thinks even breathing in your direction will put a bounty on your head.” Aiden chimed in, being everything other than helpful.

“He really wants you, Stilinski.” Jackson mumbled from the corner he sat in. Stiles threw his hands in the air.

“Alright, I get it!” he snapped.

“So what do you want me to do now? Go over there, profess my undying love and listen to him telling me all the reasons why we won’t be together?”

Not to mention, he thought to himself that he hadn’t forgiven Derek for abandoning him.

And the control issues– Jesus the control issues.

“No, we want you to come to pack meetings, to talk to him, to hash it out.” Allison, who had been quite for a long time, finally spoke up.

“I don’t know how…” he admitted softly, the strain of the last days slowly making itself known.

“Like you always do. You come over and bitch about the patrol plan– which is insane, let me tell you– Derek has us doing a perimeter run every other hour.” Scott complained.

“I’ll try.” Stiles relented, finally. Not because the others pressured him but because he missed Derek, even though the asshole didn’t deserve it.

Still, that last call remained in the back of his head.  

 

* * *

 

“There was another. Another attack- mid town, restaurant parking lot.” Isaac bolted into the apartment, curls a mess and out of breath. Stiles’ head shot up from where he was reading, Derek came running from the kitchen.

Stiles had slowly re-joined the pack but his relationship with Derek was considerably strained. They didn’t talk like they used to, didn’t sit close to each other anymore. But they were civil and Stiles was trying. It just wasn’t easy with all those unspoken feelings hovering between them like a barrier.

Isaac had been late to the pack meeting and launched into a recap of the last hour. Apparently, some kids had ignored the curfew and had gone on a double date. Predictably, the monster had hunted them down and had killed one before Isaac– being on patrol– had watched it drag its victim away.

Derek was almost at the door, when Stiles yelled at him to stop.

The Alpha whipped around, a glare already in place. Everyone in the room felt the atmosphere thicken with tension.

“If I go now, I can-“

“You can get killed. That’s all that’s going to happen. If that thing is even still there– which I highly doubt since it knows that Isaac saw it.” Derek let go of the doorknob. Just then, a mobile phone blared

 _“I shot the Sheriff”_ loudly through the room.

Derek answered the call, swiftly explained the situation to the Sheriff and grabbed for his keys.

“Your father wants you home by ten.” the wolf threw over his shoulder without looking at Stiles. The pack watched Derek get into his car and drive off before assaulting Isaac with questions. Lydia noticed Stiles silently fuming and made her way over to him.

“Quit it. It’s not attractive.” He glared at her.

“You two need to get your heads out of your asses. Seriously, it’s messing with the pack-dynamic.”

“It’s not that easy.” Her gaze softened.

“I know that, we all do. But this can’t go on, Stiles. We are all on edge. There is a monster killing people and we don’t know what it is, just that its claws are poisonous even to wolves. I need you to think straight.” Stiles huffed.

“How? Seriously. How am I supposed to do that? He hung up on me! He left me to die because he thought I’d be annoying or something.” He hung his head, the feeling of not being worth even a phone call sweeping over him. Isaac whined softly somewhere in the room, always sensible to when Stiles’ scent changed.

“Did you ask him?” Lydia inquired.

“What’s there to ask? He hung up on me, it’s pretty clear, he doesn’t wanna talk to me.”

“That’s not it and you know it. We’ve been over that. I told you, you didn’t see him when you were gone. We all thought he was going to lose it. And when we found you-“ but Stiles shook his head sharply. He couldn’t let the memories creep in again, otherwise, he wouldn’t sleep for the next month.

Derek returned two hours later with the news of a second body having been discovered. Stiles shivered at that. He hated that the body count was rising steadily and they couldn’t do anything to prevent it.

“Two patrols more per night. I want you all in pairs and checking in with me every 30 minutes.” the Alpha bit out. Stiles was prepared to argue but thought better when he remembered that Derek and him were not exactly on speaking terms.

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later, Derek called Stiles roughly around midnight.

“I got it.” Stiles was immediately alert, sitting up in bed and scrambling for his shoes.

“It’s injured but it’s fast. I lost it somewhere around the high school. Can you track it?” But Stiles was two steps ahead and had video of the human looking monster crossing the street to walk into an empty parking lot.

Early on, Chris and Stiles had figured out a system to track those monsters, using the security cameras around every gas station, school, restaurant that they could find. Derek’s description, the trail of something resembling blood and the glowing green eyes through the camera lens had helped pin it down rather sufficiently.

“Groups of 3, meet you there in twenty.” Stiles bit out, already calling Scott and Isaac. That was another thing they had developed: a code for emergencies and a system of certain groups each assembled, so that no pair of either kind– be it a romantic relationship or a family tie– would be in the same group. While he waited, doubt crept into his mind. They never went in like this.

Never.

Usually, Derek would figure out a strategy with him so that the pack could use their arsenal on all of their angles. But now, they were basically going in blindly.

Stiles never did that.

Tonight was only different because he still wasn’t ready to talk to the Alpha. Somewhere in his head, he feared, they were making a mistake, running after the monster without a plan. There was a reason why they usually argued about a strategy for an hour before the fight. He refused to let the voice in his head, screaming at him to stop this madness, get the best of him.

They needed to act quickly, nothing was going to happen.

Everything would be just fine.

He relaxed slightly, when he spotted a head full of curls approaching his porch. Isaac walked up to him, determination set on his face. Jackson drove up in his car a minute later, the other two jumping in as soon as it stopped.

The lamp on the side of the street flickered and went out almost immediately when the Jeep came to a halt. Stiles didn’t trust the silence surrounding them, Jackson seemed on edge and Isaac constantly turned his head towards any source of sound he could find. They were to meet the others in the parking lot but none of them were there yet.

“I don’t like this- it doesn’t feel right.” Isaac whispered without having a reason to. Stiles could only nod, highly concentrated on the empty street in front of them. The screeching of tires had the trio whip around. Scott, Ethan and Allison jumped out of the Porsche.

“Sorry we’re late.” Allison kissed Isaac on the cheek while Jackson and Ethan flanked Stiles.

“All good?” Ethan asked, a tremor in his voice that betrayed the confident stance. He still didn’t like going into a fight without his brother right next to him. But the system Stiles and Lydia had made up, put them in different groups simply as to not give the enemy a one-up if they caught the former Alpha-twins together and forced them to body-merge.

“It’s too quiet.” Scott said, still scanning the road.

“Where are the others? Cora was supposed to be here with Aiden and Erica five minutes before us.” Ethan sounded strained, the separation truly getting to him. When Jackson turned to him to whisper something into his ear, Stiles was eternally grateful for their relationship. Somehow, they cancelled each other out, Ethan’s soft side to Jackson’s rage, Jackson’s confidence to Ethan’s fear of trusting anyone beside his brother. They truly did make a good match. Stiles almost felt like intruding while he watched them interact so gently with each other.

Isaac tapped his shoulder, directing his attention towards the Camaro arriving just on time.

“You haven’t talked it out, have you?” When Stiles shook his head, Isaac had a look of realisation on his face.

“So that’s what’s off. I wondered the whole way here what it was. It’s not the street. It’s that you two usually bicker about strategy for two hours before going in.” He grinned down at Stiles.

“It’s complicated.” Stiles answered, unwilling to discuss it with so many ears present. Derek didn’t greet him when he existed the car which stung a little bit, but Kira made up for it by hugging everyone she could reach. She stayed by Scott’s side after that.

“Lydia’s group will be late. Boyd couldn’t get off work.” Derek stated without looking at Stiles.

“Where’s my brother? He was supposed to be here-“ Ethan said through clenched teeth. Stiles didn’t need a wolf’s ears to know just how fast Ethan’s heart was pounding.

“He didn’t contact me. But none of them feels any different than they normally do.” Derek offered reassurance. Stiles felt relieved at the words. The pack-bond would have alerted either Alpha if something with one member was amiss.

“We can’t wait that much longer. I tracked the thing towards the parking lot about twenty minutes ago. I suppose it’s regrouping right now since Derek got it but I don’t know how long we’ll have.” Stiles rambled on, nearly choking on Derek’s name, he hadn’t said it out loud in so long.

Then, finally, after what seemed like eons, two cars– Lydia’s silver Sedane and Cora’s Mustang– simultaneously came to a halt just beside the others.

Aiden immediately went to Ethan and after some intense eye-contact which looked as if they were having a silent conversation, he finally turned to Lydia and pulled her into an embrace. Cora cuffed Stiles on the head and then sauntered over to Derek.

“Alright. Let’s go in.” Scott bellowed, a move that made Stiles wince since it announced to everyone in the near vicinity that they had arrived.

The parking lot looked empty but only at first sight. Because the moment they stepped onto the white line, fog appeared out of nowhere. Stiles heard rather than saw the thing attack.

Chaos erupted when the wolves leapt into battle. Isaac winced somewhere to his right, Aiden or Ethan– he could never tell them apart while fighting– went flying into a car, landing with a sickening sound and a howl from the uninjured twin. Stiles still couldn’t see, felt a hand on his shoulder and whipped around to find Lydia pressed into his side.

Allison seemed to do well, the sound of flying arrows cutting the air. Boyd’s low growl echoed to their right. Derek’s large form appeared out of nowhere in front of them. Stiles instantly relaxed a fraction. Lydia’s grip got tighter, the closer they came to the source of the fog.

Then, in the centre, the fog lifted and they saw the full extent of the battle. Isaac was on the ground and bleeding heavily but he was conscious. Stiles wanted to run up to him to help but Isaac stopped him with the significant hand-gesture. He held tightly onto his bat, swinging at the thing whenever it came close enough to hit.

Finally, he saw what they were up against.

The thing was in full Beta-shift, somewhere between a jackal and a wolf, with scales all over its back. It looked wild, like a beast. Stiles thought for second, they were up against another shape-shifter. As it turned out, he was wrong. This was not a shifter, not like the ones fighting beside him. Its movements were controlled, whirling around and reappearing somewhere it had no business being, considering the laws of physics.

Never had he seen any traditional shifter move that fast, hit that strongly.

His head went into overdrive, nearly forgetting to hold up his bat in defence. He realised just then that the wolves had it circled, pushing it to the back of the parking lot against a back wall but it didn’t seem frightened, rather like this was amusing. Stiles didn’t like that expression on its jackal-like face.

Derek pounced but didn’t reach it. Erica managed to sink her claws into it but was ripped off her feet and thrown through the air where she landed near the wall. Stiles’ heart pounded in his chest when he realised that nothing they did seemed to hurt the creature. It was as if it was immune to any of the weapons at their disposal.

Even when Allison whipped out her gun and fired two shots directly into its head, it did nothing.

No shifter could do that, not a single one. He wondered briefly if Derek had actually hurt it or if it had played them, lured them out here. But he didn’t have time to think for long. To his left, Lydia motioned for him to cover his ears and let out a piercing scream that shook the cars where they were parked. But it did nothing to affect the monster.

Then, several things happened all at once.

Boyd and Jackson charged, actually making the thing stumble for just a moment. The eyes of the creature flashed green once more. It seemed to siphon strength from somewhere. With incredible force, it whirled around, pushing the wolves off and sending them crashing into each other. Then it stalked forward towards Kira as if it wanted to rip her apart. Stiles saw his best friend jump between them, watched Scott take the hit meant for the kitsune.

It was deadly silent until the sudden sound of flesh being ripped, followed by a gut-wrenching howl, made their ears ring.

Stiles stared at the scene without moving.

Cold sweat broke out on his back when Scott hit the ground, eyes immediately fluttering shut.

Kira’s anguished scream would forever be etched into his memory.

 

* * *

 

The thing dissipated, smiling that weird toothy grin that had Stiles on edge, changing back into something closely resembling a human. Peter pushed Kira’s hands away, pressed down hard on Scott’s chest to stop the blood still rapidly flowing. Lydia ran over to where Stiles supposed Aiden had fallen to the ground. With her anchoring hand on his shoulder gone, nothing kept Stiles upright anymore.

He felt his knees give out when strong hands hauled him back up. Derek stepped away from him as soon as he had found his footing again.

They stared at each other. For a short moment, unspoken feelings hung in the air.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, to make sure Derek was alright, like he always did after every fight but Kira’s sob made him whip around. Peter was hunched over Scott, still trying his best to stop the blood-flow but Kira was crying into her hands, her whole body shaking with the force of it. Stiles went down beside her, cradling her in his arms. She pressed against him, holding onto the comfort of his body.

“We need to move him. Deaton’s in tonight.” The Mustang roared to life behind them, its headlights blinding them for a second before the full extent of Scott’s injuries became apparent. None of them had seen it in the dark, but there were chunks of flesh missing from Scott’s chest, his throat.

Stiles wanted to vomit– he was shaking. They needed to get Scott to Deaton. As if on cue, Derek and Peter lifted the unconscious wolf and softly placed him on the backseat of Cora’s car.

“Stiles.” Derek addressed him for the first time today. He let go of Kira, whispering a promise into her shoulder that he would rather die himself than let their Alpha die on him and ran to the car.

The ride to the clinic was tense and quiet. Derek refused to look in the rear-view mirror. Stiles presumed it was because he didn’t want to see the unconscious form of his injured Co-Alpha. Stiles himself couldn’t stop staring at his best friend’s torso.

He willed the car to go faster, for Deaton to magically appear. Miraculously, there was no-one on their road beside them, no obstacle, not even a red light stopping them. When they finally pulled up at the clinic, the lights were on and the vet came running out. Scott’s wounds were still not closing, his breathing barely there. Stiles had to ask Derek twice to confirm that Scott’s bond with him had not changed– that his best friend was still alive.

The Alpha kept a hand on his back, anchoring himself and Stiles in that simple gesture of unity. Deaton made quick work of Scott’s shirt then started stitching the claw marks back together. Derek reached his other hand out to draw the pain from Scott, going white in the face the second, he touched the other wolf. And suddenly, it was Stiles holding Derek up instead of the other way around. Derek clung to him with everything he had, while black veins disappeared into his skin.

Stiles didn’t know how long it took but after what felt to him like a century, Scott’s eyelids fluttered.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so relieved to see Scott’s dopey smile.

“Heeey,” Scott croaked and was immediately reprimanded by his boss to quit talking. Stiles wanted to yell at him but he understood. And with sudden clarity, he realised that it would have been him, if Derek was the one in danger, that he would be the one on this table, hardly breathing from sheer exhaustion.

Derek looked at him, as if he had had a similar thought. Before either of them could launch into an apology or an explanation– depending on which one of them would get the first word in– Scott sunk back against the table, eyes closing again. Stiles heart jumped, thinking the other was back in death’s claws, but Derek shook his head, holding him back from shaking Scott’s shoulders.

“I gave him a strong sleeping draught and contacted Kira. She will come here and provide him with the safety of a mate. Hopefully, he will enter a healing sleep.” Deaton spoke from the other side of the room. His words sounded nonchalant but Stiles saw the strain on his face from having his favourite wolf that close to death.

Meanwhile, Scott lay completely motionless on the operation table. The sight still made Stiles’ heart stutter in worry. He knew, logically, that those wounds would take longer healing but seeing his best friend out of commission still freaked him out, even if he was no longer in immediate danger.

“He will wake up in a few hours, there is nothing for you to do.” Deaton said behind him in what Stiles considered to be a gentle voice.

“I will make sure Kira monitors him closely. Trust me, we will not leave his side,” the vet assured him.

Stiles didn’t want to leave, he really didn’t– but there was something that needed discussion and he could no longer push it away.

The fight today had put things into perspective for him and as much as he was hurt by what had happened, he couldn’t let a fight like this take place again. The drive to Derek’s was over far more quickly than he had hoped it would. Both of them got out of the Mustang and walked up to the house in uncomfortable silence.

“We need to talk.” Stiles stated after crossing the threshold, already putting a few feet of distance between him and the Alpha.

“Yes.” He barely suppressed the need to roll his eyes at that. Trust Derek to start a conversation with such an answer.

“What happened today can’t happen again. It was our fault that Scott got hurt and I won’t let them run into something like this again without a plan. I don’t care that we have that… that problem-“ he gestured towards them “but we need to work together. Whether we like it or not.”

“You are the one who avoids me at every cost. You don’t talk to me at pack meetings, you don’t answer my calls.” Derek said with a hard stare accompanying his words. Stiles was left gaping at him.

That. Utter. _Asshole!_

“You’ve got to be kidding me!  ** _I_** was the one not answering calls? Are you fucking serious? I called you that day! I called and you hung up on me! How dare you-“

“I tried to apologise!” Derek said but it sounded small.

“So what? What does that matter? I don’t give a fuck if you’re sorry or you regret it! I don’t care for your reasons or that you wouldn’t do it again! Point is: you did it! You hung up on me when I was in danger!” Stiles screeched, hands flailing. He felt tears pool in his eyes but refused to cry in front of Derek.

“You don’t get to put this on me!” Derek looked like he wanted to step forward, suddenly not that angry anymore.

“Stiles- I…” the pause that followed was heavy with silence.

“I don’t know how to make it up to you. How to make this right.”

Why did this hurt so much? The ache in Stiles’ belly grew to a steady burn, pumping through him with each word. And Stiles wanted to run over and throw himself into Derek’s arm, wanted it to all be alright again more than anything else in the world. But it wasn’t that easy.

“You can’t,” he said softly.

“I just- see… I just don’t get it. You always came when I called- even when my Jeep broke down and you told me not to use it the day before- you still came to help me. But the one time I needed you to listen, you hung up.”

Suddenly, Derek made a move as if to reach out to him but flinched when he saw Stiles take an instinctive step backwards. Derek’s face clenched up in pain. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if to hold onto himself.

“So tell me. Tell my, why- why did you hang up?“ Stiles asked, defeated even to his own ears. Because that’s what this was all about, that’s what kept him awake at night. The uncertainty. He needed an answer, needed the reason why Derek suddenly had given up on him.

“I thought you were going to ask me about training you and I didn’t want to have that discussion again.“ Derek sounded exhausted, guilty– all at once– and it confused Stiles as much as it angered him.

He had trusted Derek.

So much.

And it had all been for nothing.

“You could have listened. Derek! You were my only chance. I called you-“ he realised then that he didn’t want to yell anymore.

“Why? Why did you call me? Why not just call Scott?“ As if Derek didn’t know the answer to that. Hell, even the pack knew the answer to that.

“Because I only had that one call left- there wasn’t anytime to-“ It was humiliating. To admit that Derek was the one he had trusted most. That he had been desperate for the wolf when they closed in on him and he had been so scared.

“But why call _me_?“ any other time Stiles would have told Derek to stop belittling himself in such a way. He should know, how much he meant to Stiles, that even though they weren’t together, he was Stiles’ first call, would always be his first call.

 _“Because!“_ He couldn’t say it. Not to him. Not after being left to fend for himself when all he had had was a rusty baseball-bat and a smart mouth.

“Because, what?“ Derek sounded just as desperate for him to understand as Stiles was.

“Because, I trusted you! Damn it! Because, I was so sure that you would come. That if I were in danger, you would come to get me. I called you, because I trusted you to listen- that if worse came to worse, you would be the one that without a doubt, would show up.“

Derek physically recoiled at the words. He bumped into the wall while retreating from Stiles, as if distance would make him deaf to what Stiles was admitting to. Stiles could see the doubt in his eyes, the fear that someone­– god forbid– actually cared about him. What followed was silence, only broken by Stiles’ quiet question.

“So, tell me, if it were anyone else- if anyone else called you that night- would you have listened?“

“I don’t-“ Derek stared at him with pleading eyes but he was done. He was so, so done.

 _“Would you have listened?“_ Desperation poured out of him. He felt himself tremble, braced himself for the inevitable answer.

And when it came, it shattered his whole world. _  
_

“Yes.“ They had gotten it wrong. The pack had gotten it wrong. Derek really didn’t give a damn about him. It hurt so badly. That he once again had put himself out there, had actually made an effort to rekindle their relationship– or what he had wrongly assumed was a relationship. And all along, he had been right.

It sucked. Because the one time he had wanted to be wrong, he was right.

“‘kay.“ Stiles turned around to leave. He needed to get out of here, needed to get home to lock himself into his room. When he reached the door, he turned back to the wolf in the room, standing there, so out of place.

Derek looked crestfallen, like it had finally clicked, like it had finally dawned on him that there was no coming back from this, that he had been the one to sign Stiles’ fate himself. There was so much guilt in his gaze that Stiles wanted to look away.

But he couldn’t.

No, he needed to say this because when it came down to it, this was what all of the fighting was about.

“Guess I wasn’t worth listening to then...“

 

 


	3. I'm All You've Got...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will get worse before it gets better. But it does get better at some point, I promise.

_"Only when you’ve felt the blade, can you truly understand the scar"_

 

 

The door slammed shut behind him on the way out and for once, he was glad for Derek’s enhanced hearing because the sound must have hurt like a bitch in his ears. He threw himself into the drivers’ seat, grabbed the wheel but took a few steadying breaths before putting the car into gear. It wouldn’t do any good to risk a crash because he was seething about stupid Alphas. When he reached his house, the lights were already on, even though he knew for a fact– and by the lack of the car in front of the house– that his Dad was out.

He grabbed his trusty bat and walked right up to the door. He had had it tonight with all the bullshit and the attacks and the fighting. He just wanted to fall down on his bed and don’t deal with anything for the next 24 hours at the least. Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently, because not only did Scott get hurt tonight, Derek had been an utter asshole too. And now, he needed to kick some monster or other out of his house to finally– _finally_ – go the fuck to bed.

He was so done.

Perhaps that was, why he ripped the door open without any regards for his personal safety or why he swung the bat with all he had against the intruder, effectively knocking Cora over with it.

“Shit!” he rushed to help her up while another person scoffed behind him.

“Sorry- sorry.” Cora smiled but it was obviously strained and showed more than a touch of fang.

“If it weren’t for the fact that I know you just had a falling out with my oblivious idiot of a brother, I would have your head right now.” She snarled, the wound rapidly closing on her forehead. Stiles let himself fall to the ground when the adrenaline flush left his system and the bone-deep exhaustion returned.

“Can you not at least collapse on the couch like a person who has class?” Lydia complained but sat down beside him as if sensing how much his everything hurt. Stiles had so many questions but couldn’t bring himself to ask any. Not like it mattered anyway.

“What did he say?” Erica said it in a way where he knew that they had at least a vague idea. He also guessed, they wouldn’t have ditched their boyfriends after such a fight to keep him company if they didn’t have an inking as to how the conversation had gone.

“What do you think he said!” Stiles snapped, not because he was angry with her but because it hurt to re-live that mortifying situation.

“Well, if we knew that, we wouldn’t need to ask.” Lydia commented dryly. And that was the moment when he shot up off the ground, all built up rage exploding at once. He had had it.

“As if you don’t know! As if you haven’t talked about it behind my back! You knew how he really felt about me! And you sent me to talk to him anyway! Feelings, my ass! He doesn’t give two shits about me and all of you knew! Fuck! Was this funny to you? Your idea of entertainment? To send me in there and talk to him and listen to him tell me that I don’t matter, that I’m only the silly human that he doesn’t want fighting his battles, that I’m not even worth listening to on a damn phone call! And you know what? I told you that! But you– all of you convinced me to believe, he somehow, by some miracle, liked me! And all the while, you knew! You knew!”

Silence followed, heavily loaded with so much pain, it crackled in the air around him.

“Stiles…” Erica reached out to him. He didn’t let her.

“No! No– I’ve had it. After all I’ve done for the pack, for all of you– why would you do that to me? Why? What have I done to you to deserve that? You know how much he means to me…” Tears fell before he could stop them, tremors running through his body. He wrapped his arms around himself, needing comfort so badly. He wanted the world to disappear.

“Stop it!” Lydia whispered, “stop it right now.” She was up from the floor in seconds, pulling him into a hug, without caring that he tried to fight her off.  
He didn’t know how long they held onto each other, how long she whispered soothing words into his skin but when she let go, the tremors had subsided, his tears were no longer flowing.

“What did he say?” Erica repeated, looking shell shocked and sadder than he had ever seen her.

“That he would have listened.” he croaked, fighting to keep the tears at bay “he would have– if it had been anyone but me.” It hurt to say it out loud. 

“I’m gonna kill him,” Cora suddenly announced. “Brother or not.”

“Nobody is going to kill anyone. What we are going to do, however, is think about what Derek said and what he meant by it.” Lydia stated, now calm as she had ever been.

“What is there to think about? He made his point pretty clear.” Stiles huffed, not wanting to go into detail once again on what had happened.

“I get that, Stiles. It’s just…” Erica stopped, seemingly immersed in her own world. “It’s just strange, you know…”

The room waited patiently– Lydia– angrily– Cora– and confusedly– Stiles– for her to finish her train of thoughts.

“He doesn’t behave like you don’t matter. His chemo-signals are all over the place when he’s near you. He does everything in his power to protect you– even if it means dying. He rips apart everyone who ever came close to hurting you– you specifically. It just… it doesn’t make sense to me…” Stiles didn’t know what to make of that. They had been over these things and Derek had still told him to fuck off. No, somewhere, they had gotten it wrong. He was sure of it.

When he turned to Lydia to have her back him up, he stopped dead in his tracks. The banshee had a glint in her eyes he hadn’t seen in a long time. As if she had finally figured out that one number of a Sudoku she was trying to solve.

“We are idiots.” She mumbled. “Blind idiots. All of us.”

Alright.

Stiles didn’t know if it had been the fighting or the emotional rollercoaster, but it seemed to him that his favourite banshee was finally off her rocker. He rolled his eyes, ready to call it a night and go to bed, when a hand grabbed his arm in a painful grip.

“Listen.” Lydia hissed. “You can go to bed and curse me for all eternity if you really want to but you have to listen to me first.” Stiles nodded, slightly scared of her odd behaviour.

“What if we didn’t get it wrong?”

Nobody answered.

“What if we were exactly right? And Derek’s speech, his attitude towards you just proves it?” Stiles scoffed, so did Cora.

“So what? He likes Stiles and shows it by being an asshole?” Stiles silently thanked her for putting this absurdity into words.

“Yes! Yes, that’s exactly it!” Lydia stared at him in that triumphant way of hers that made him want to strangle her sometimes. Right now, for example.

“I don’t get it.” Cora summarised Stiles’ thoughts.

“Look at it this way. What did the hunters tell Stiles they wanted to achieve by kidnapping him?” Stiles felt the memories overcome him before he could put a stop to it. Erica’s hand on his arm anchored him in reality. The quiet thank you didn’t go unnoticed and he was met with a genuine smile on the blonde’s face.

“They told you, they wanted Derek– and Derek specifically– to go feral. Not Scott– Derek. And to get him to shift, they hurt you.” Stiles nodded, still unsure as to where she was going with this.

“It’s so simple. They hurt you because of him.” Stiles wanted to interject here, wanted to defend the Alpha but was immediately shushed.

“That’s how he sees it. He is determined that you were taken because of him, that you got hurt because of him. Once again. And he can’t deal with that. So what does he do? What does he always do, to make sure– to be absolutely certain– that no one he cares about gets hurt?”

The glint in Lydia’s eyes resembled fireworks at this point, making her look more than a little mad. But Erica and Cora suddenly started bouncing in their seats as if they had just realised something that he hadn’t. 

“He pushes them away!” Lydia concluded excitedly.

“He pushes people away that matter so that no one can use them to get to him. Not because he fears for his own safety– God knows he doesn’t– but for theirs. Because they are the ones that get hurt.”

“It’s like with Kate and with Jennifer and with the Alphas all over again. The next big threat and he suddenly goes into lone-wolf-mode.” Erica chimed in.

“He thinks that he has a better shot at it if he’s alone. Because they have no leverage if he has no bonds. Which– granted– doesn’t work as an Alpha. But with you, it works. _You_ , he can send away. You will be safe if he is not in the picture.”

“And that’s what it comes down to. What it always comes down to.” Lydia continued. “He wants you safe. He always wants you safe first, above anyone else. You are his number one priority. And suddenly, he knows that they will not use you to get to Scott or anyone else. They will only use you to get to him. And only him. So what does he do? He hurts you, he makes you leave, thinking you don’t matter to him at all. So that, when the time comes, they won’t take you. They will take Kira or Aiden or Boyd, but they will not take you. And that’s what that matters.”

He wanted to believe her. It sounded like everything he had wished for. And that was precisely why he wouldn’t fall for it. Not for a second time.

“You have it all figured out, haven’t you?” his voice was laced with sarcasm. It was easy to spin a story if it wasn’t your heart on the line.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Lydia snapped. “I am not making this up. It’s the only logical conclusion.”

“How? How is any of that logical? You’re just seeing things because you want to believe them so badly.” He was so scared. So scared for his own heart. He had endured enough. Especially for one night.

“I am not seeing things! I am not crazy!” With a jolt, the full impact of his words dawned on him. He hadn’t meant to remind her of that. Lydia looked murderous but underneath it, there was unmistakable hurt. She may have accepted her gift as a banshee but her time stumbling over bodies without the slightest clue as to why, still haunted her.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know you are not. It’s just… it’s easy for you to speculate, you know… You never had to deal with-“

“With what? Idiots? Jackson is my Ex-boyfriend for God’s sake. I am currently dating an Alpha with trust issues. So what exactly do you think I hadn’t had to deal with?”

“With not being good enough!” Stiles yelled at her, making her step back.

“Don’t you get it? You are trying to tell me that Derek– Derek!– likes me so much that he’s willing to make me hate him just so that I’m safe! That he’s so gone for me that he has no regards for his personal safety! Are you hearing yourself? How on earth can you think someone like Derek would want someone like me! I had a hard time even trying to accept that he wants to fuck me senseless, even though, his body signals were so over the place that even Scott picked up on them! So why– pray tell me– should I believe, he wants me because he actually likes me? When the rest of the world doesn’t think I’m worth a second thought when it comes to dating? Are you seriously trying to convince me to believe that after twenty-two years of being not even considered worth even one shot at dating, of not being interesting, handsome enough, that now the resident Alpha Derek freaking Hale with the body of a Greek God– the Derek Hale that would rather die than hurt his pack– likes me for me!”

He couldn’t… he just couldn’t think about this anymore. Admitting to this– to his deepest, most private insecurities– had taken a lot out of him. He felt so embarrassed that he kept his eyes on the floor.

Of course, they wouldn’t understand.

Maybe Erica could.

Since she had been like him once, before she had become a badass wolf. But Lydia? Cora? They were beautiful and smart and graceful. Something that he would never be.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Cora asked softly. It was that– that softness in her otherwise tough demeanour– that had him look at her. She sounded heart-broken. For him.

“You are so smart. You grew into your body, and even if you hadn’t, you would still be beautiful.” Stiles turned away, ready to deny it but they refused to be turned away from.

“No, you need to hear this.” Erica ordered.

“You are just as smart as I am. I’ve always– _always, Stiles_ – considered you my equal.” Lydia said, her eyes glassy. “I know, I treated you badly, that I am part of why you feel that way. And if I could, I would take it back…” She reached out to him, cradled his cheek in her hand. “I would. Because I was so wrong about you. Because you are loyal to a fault, you are strong without having enhanced powers to rely on and you are kind. Don’t ever underestimate that. You have every right to be an asshole because you got the shit end of the deal over and over again but you came out as one of the kindest people I know.”

“I-“

“You, Stilinski, should look in a mirror once or twice.” Erica snapped at him. “You run around thinking you are not attractive, when I always thought you were. Even before we became friends. I always thought you were hot.” She punched him on the arm. “And you are so brave, so incredibly brave that it scares me sometimes” she murmured. “And Derek sees that. He sees all that. Even if you don’t.”

“You don’t have to believe us. But please, don’t run around thinking that you are not worth it. Because you are.” Lydia kissed his cheek, squeezed his arm once more before turning on her heel and stalking out of his house.

“I need some ice cream after this talk…” Erica sniffed soundly then waved as a way of goodbye. Only Cora remained. She looked at Stiles somewhat differently than before.

Then she said: “Don’t give up on him, please. Not yet. I get that he’s an asshole and that he’s overprotective. I get it, Stiles. But I really think he likes you– maybe even more than that. So, if you can, just… just try it for a little while longer and if he’s still like this, then you have my blessing to shoot him with wolfsbane. I’ll hold him down for you if you want.” she chuckled softly.

“I won’t ask more than you can give. I know you’ve been through enough. And he has too. I only ask that you try. Just that you try one more time. Not for him… for you…” she hugged him tighter.

“Because you deserve something so good that it makes you burn with happiness. And I think he can give that to you…” When she left, the door fell close heavily behind her, leaving Stiles with nothing but his own aching heart for company.

 

* * *

 

 

The next pack meeting was a chaotic affair. Stiles managed to attend without breaking into hysterics at Derek’s scoff when he saw him enter the house. Scott and Isaac immediately beckoned him over to play a game of Monopoly– which Scott lost spectacularly. Stiles felt Derek’s gaze on him throughout the entire evening and not in a good way. To his utter surprise, it was Boyd who pulled him over, somewhat out of earshot while the rest fought over dessert.

“He doesn’t get it.” The usually silent wolf said as way of explanation. And when he realised that his statement didn’t make any sense to Stiles, he huffed and elaborated.

“Why you are here. He doesn’t understand why you came back.”

Oh.

“It’s my pack too.” Stiles answered. He couldn’t help the slightly defensive tone.  

“Glad to hear that.” Boyd graced him with one of his rare smiles. He had refused to back down when the girls had told him about their suspicions. At least, he had had after a night of self-pity followed by anger followed by insecurities. But once his decision had been made, he had packed his stuff and had driven to Derek’s, determined not to let the Sourwolf get his way without at least putting up a good fight.

And it had worked beautifully.

Derek had never been so irritated with his presence as he was now. It made Stiles hope, even though he had sworn to himself not to fall back into old habits. His heart was on the line and although it looked like the girls might me somewhat right, he wasn’t about to believe it, just because Derek acted oddly around him.

He did that everyday anyhow.

 

* * *

 

 

“Stilinksi!” Stiles shot up in bed, knocked over the night-stand in his haste to reach the window and ripped it open with so much force, it rattled in its frame. It took longer than he liked to admit for him to make out the blurry figure on the ground. He nearly fell out of said window when he realised it was the former douche-deluxe.

“Jackson?”

It wasn’t that they hadn’t bonded lately but for him to show up at three in the morning all by himself was a little odd. Even for them.

“Unlock the front door, dumbass!” The wolf shouted up to him. Stiles was half-way down the stairs when his Dad came out of his own room looking sleepy, grumpy and terrified at the same time. Which was impressive.

“What is going on? Who is dead now?” And wasn’t it sad that this had been Stiles’ first thought upon seeing Jackson too?

The wolf in question barged into the living room, seemingly unbothered at the sight of not only one, but two Stilinskis in pyjamas and threw a six-pack into Stiles’ arms. Or attempted to. Stile’s reflexes weren’t up to par with a normal human being when he was awake. Needless to say that they were almost non-existent when he was still half-asleep. As it was, the beer hit him in the stomach with so much force that the breath was forced out of his lungs. The Sheriff was about to comment but thought better of it when he saw the bags under Jackson’s eyes. Meanwhile, Stiles was on the floor and debating his life choices.

“Thanks for the help, Dad.” he muttered after Jackson had helped him up with a rough pull.

“That’s all on you, son. You adopted them, you deal with them. I’m too old for this, especially at three in the morning.” With that, the Sheriff ascended back up the stairs.

“Jackson, if you throw a six-pack at my son one more time, I’m bringing out the wolfsbane bullets and you can damn well be sure I know how to use them!” he added almost as an afterthought before rounding the corner.

For a moment, Jackson looked truly terrified. It was quite a sight to behold.

“Sit down,” Jackson snapped when Stiles fidgeted. The second his butt touched the couch, Jackson wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into a hug.

“If you breathe a word to this to anyone-“ Years ago, this threat would have hit its mark, but today, it didn’t hold any weight. Not with Jackson holding him so close.

“You wanna talk about it?” Stiles whispered into Jackson’s hair. A scoff should have been his typical answer but his grip tightening and claws digging into his shirt was what he got. And if he hadn’t already realised how seriously hurt Jackson must have been to seek him out in the middle of the night, he knew for sure now.

“When you’re ready…” It took a while, longer than Jackson would have probably liked, but when he finally remerged from Stiles’ embrace, his face looked less anxious. Even if just a fraction.

“Ethan and I fought.” Well, fuck. It had been bound to happen since the day those two got their shit together but Stiles had known from that day on that when they fought, it would be hell.

“It’s stupid too. He talked about being an Alpha and I-“ Jackson took a deep breath, “I guess I just heard things…”

“What things?”

“That he still wanted to be one. That he would leave when he got that power back. That that’s all he wants, to have that power back because he feels helpless as a Beta. Like- that there is something stronger out there.” Stiles laughed humourlessly. Wasn’t that the story of their lives? There would always be someone stronger. They had learned that the hard way. Jackson hadn’t looked at Stiles when admitting it. Stiles guessed, it was because it took a lot of him to voice his thoughts.

“I just- I lost my power too… and I don’t- I wouldn’t want to change that. Maybe I did once, but not now…” He pushed his hair out of his face in what Stiles recognised as a nervous gesture.

“I like being a Beta. It’s- I know what I- what that kind of power did to me and I don’t want that- not anymore…”

“It was different, though…” Stiles intervened, feeling he needed to. Jackson had been controlled and while Deucalion had certainly manipulated the twins, their will had not been taken away like Jackson’s had.

“I know that!” Jackson snapped. His rage was still closer to the surface than with any of the other wolves. Stiles supposed, it was what had made the fight between them erupt that easily.

“I know it’s different, okay? But I still know how it feels- to lose power- to feel helpless and like you can’t protect anybody, not even yourself. I get that. And he acts like I can’t possible understand what it is like for him.”

“I don’t think that’s what this is about…” He felt bold to say it. Claws did after all rip human skin rather competently. Still, Jackson needed to hear it.

“You’re right. It’s not!” an angry voice behind them made them jump up from the couch. Stiles’ first instinct was to push Jackson behind him but the wolf was faster. With a quick move, he had manoeuvred himself between the human and the intruder, effectively blocking Stiles from danger. Warmth tingled in his belly at that display of protection. Then he connected the dots and realised who the figure in his doorway was that was seething with barely concealed rage.

“You didn’t hear him coming? You’re almost as bad as Scott, Jesus effing Christ, Maria and Joseph!” Stiles cursed. Wolves. Seriously.

“That’s all you heard from what I said? That I want to leave you and become an Alpha again? Did you even listen you knucklehead?” Ethan completely disregarded Stiles’ near heart-attack but– to be fair– there were bigger issues on his mind at the moment. His angry and hurt boyfriend was decidedly one of them.

“What else was there to hear? You hate being a Beta! You hate being here!” Jackson accused while taking a menacing step towards the other.

“That’s not what I said!” Ethan roared.

“That’s what you meant!” Jackson yelled back, already shifting. Ethan’s eyes flashed, he suddenly looked taller, bigger. And for a second, Stiles saw that power back in him, saw how truly dangerous he could be. But it was over before he could even blink. Now, there was only Ethan, completely shifted back to human and looking at Jackson with so much love in his eyes that Stiles wanted to push Jackson towards him.

“Do you really think that?” Ethan asked, approaching slowly with his hands where the other could see them.

“You said it!”

“Listen!” Stiles bellowed– which wasn’t the best idea he had ever had, considering Jackson now focused his anger on him.

“You’re on his side? Are you kidding me?” The fangs in his mouth garbled up his speech so badly, it sounded more like a hiss than actual human words. Luckily for Stiles, he had been confronting a certain Sourwolf in a variety from half to fully shifted and in the mood to rip his throat out with his teeth on an almost daily basis, since he had been sixteen years old. Still, he backed up, not wanting to anger Jackson any further.

“I’m on nobody’s side. I just want you to listen to him. Hash it out.” Ethan remained where he was but continued talking, never letting his eyes off his boyfriend.

“I don’t want to be an Alpha anymore. I don’t want to leave. That’s not what I was trying to say. Maybe it came out wrong,” Jackson’s growl echoed from the walls.

“Damn it, Jackson! It’s half past three! Silence!” How his Dad could determine it to be Jackson’s growl was beyond Stiles.

“Okay, it definitely came out wrong. But hear me out.” A clipped nod was all he got.

“The only reason for me to be an Alpha– _the only one_ – is that I would be the strongest wolf there is. That’s it. It has nothing to do with being a Beta or wanting to leave. It’s just… there are things that I care about, _people_ that I care about and I want to protect them. And as an Alpha, that is easier. You have to understand, I spent all my life running, fighting with only Aiden as back-up… I never had what you have with Scott and Derek. There was no bond, no family. And now that we have that, we want to keep it. So badly, you have no idea…” He trailed off. His gaze was somewhere that neither Jackson nor Stiles could see.

“So, you don’t want to leave me…” It was asked so quietly, so softly that Stiles wasn’t sure he was supposed to have heard it. But Ethan had. And his reaction– if nothing else had had already– showed so clearly what Jackson meant to him. He stalked over to the wolf in question and pulled him into a kiss that was not even remotely PG. And Stiles was okay with that, just this once.

“Why do you always assume the worst?” Ethan whispered into Jackson’s shoulder. Stiles didn’t hear the answer but he didn’t need to anyway.

“I hate to break up this beautiful moment of manly love but it’s nearly four in the morning and I have to sleep sometime today.” He said cheerfully, earning him a twin death-glare.

“Stop it! You’re in my living room. No glaring at the Stiles when you came to me to cuddle…”

“The only reason you’re still running around with your head attached to your shoulders for cuddling my boyfriend, is because Derek would have mine if I so much as touched you. Consider yourself warned, Stilinski.” Ethan pointed a threatening finger at him but the smile on his face, all warm eyes and no fangs, told a different story.

“I object to that.” Stiles said, fake outrage in his stance.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Can we go home now?” Jackson rolled his eyes and pretended not to care, as per usual. Stiles didn’t have it in him to destroy the illusion of still being a badass douche bag and simply cuffed him on the head. Lovingly, mind you.

“I’ll tell everyone you like to cuddle. And that you brought me a six-pack. Which I will drink all by myself.” Stiles sing-songed but was cut off by a hand around his shoulders and a quick hug.

“Thanks,” Jackson mumbled before letting go as if burned by the contact. The door closed behind them, two motors roared up almost simultaneously and then they were gone. Stiles made it to bed at five past four. He didn’t have many good nights. But this was definitely one of them.

 

* * *

 

 

The next wolf that showed up unannounced was– to no one’s surprise– Isaac. He climbed through the window– but not before knocking politely like a decent supernatural being with manners.

Take note Derek!

“Can I crash here?” Were the first words out of Isaac’s mouth.

“Sure. Something wrong?” The question was rhetorical. Obviously, there was something wrong when Isaac needed to stay with him for the night. But Isaac shook his head instead of an answer and climbed into his bed to cuddle. The movie Stiles had been watching continued, another was put in which they finished as well before Isaac admitted to having a nightmare.

“I just- Allison is out of town and Scott is with Kira. I- I didn’t want to go to Derek…”

God, he felt for the kid. Of course, he wouldn’t want to go to Derek. With all the trauma Derek hadn’t dealt with in the past, he sure as hell wasn’t the right one to try solving Isaac’s. Stiles was really hoping the Argents came back soon. He felt safer with Chris down the road.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Isaac shivered beside him, pulled the blanket closer. It was enough for Stiles to know what the dream had been about.

“Or hey, do you wanna have some tea? I have your favourite…” The pile of blanket nodded.

Hot tea was a cure to everything, like Stiles’ mom had always told him. With Isaac, it went a bit further than that. The warmth of the steaming hot mug seemed to pull him out of thoughts about the freezer. Stiles had discovered that trick long ago and it still worked like a miracle. Nothing else would make the cold sweep out of Isaac’s body faster than tea. It’s why Derek, Allison and Stiles– sometimes even Scott– kept Isaac’s favourite kind of tea around for him to drink whenever he wanted. It was one of their systems to take care of each other that they had developed over time. And Stiles was happy to help whenever he could. His hand involuntarily gripped Isaac tighter, pulled him close. He had become rather protective of him. Isaac snuggled against him, his breathing evening out quickly at the comforting scent of pack.

“You really are Pack Mom, you know?” Stiles wanted to protest at the title but thought better of it when Isaac mumbled

“Don’t worry. I’sss a good thing.” Tears sprung to his eyes but didn’t flow over. He held onto Isaac for the whole night, hearing his heart beat steadily beside him.

He felt content.

 

* * *

 

 

“Dude! You won’t believe what Derek told me!” Stiles had no idea why Scott would call him at three in the morning to talk about Derek. Since it was clear that this was not a life-threatening situation anyways. He was at a loss for words. But it evidently didn’t matter when Scott just rambled on.

“He got the job. Derek’s a deputy now. With the uniform and all that. It’s great. I think, he’s happy about it. Your Dad just brought him home and he called me.” Scott sounded like an overexcited puppy but this time, Stiles couldn’t argue with it. Derek getting a job was great. And that he was happy was even better.

“Next time you visit your Dad at work, you can say Hi to Derek too.”

Aaaaand there went his good mood. He had a hard time seeing Derek at pack meetings and now he would see him even more than that. Knowing his father, Derek would be invited to dinner again, sooner rather than later.

He was proven right, when his father came home the next evening with a huge smile plastered to his face. The Sheriff proceeded to tell him over steamed chicken that Derek was incredible at sniffing out criminals– Stiles’ words, not John’s– and that a built-in lie-detector made his job that much easier. Also, he liked having someone to discuss the supernatural cases with, especially with Derek’s level of knowledge and contacts.

In short, Derek was the new star of the precinct and his Dad had already invited him out for lunch. Dinner would be just around the corner, Stiles was sure of it. The conversation turned serious, however, when the focus shifted to the increasing number of victims piling up in the hospital or worse in the cemetery.

They hadn’t even made one step in the right direction, weren’t any closer to solving that puzzle or even figuring out what that damn thing, roaming the streets of Beacon Hills, was. One case in particular, seemed to have the Sheriff on edge. A boy around 12 years old had been left for ten minutes in the backyard at nine in the evening, when the father had been looking around the bushes for a dog making noise. The father had come back to his son barely breathing, claw marks on his body and teeth marks on his throat. By some miracle, the boy was still alive, with no memory of the incident besides there being fog suddenly. Stiles’ throat went dry at the image of a little boy nearly being killed because the pack didn’t work hard enough to keep the town safe.

His first call went out to Derek, informing him– and Scott by default– of the situation. Derek was already on his patrol, having dealt with the case the whole day as a deputy and being just as shocked as Stiles was.

His next call went out to Allison who was finally back in town from a business trip with her father.

“We’ve been looking through the bestiary but there are like 10 different monsters it could be. And that’s if we only consider the ones with only these abilities and nothing else. It’s always possible that it doesn’t show us other abilities so that we don’t figure out what it is.”

“Yeah, I get that but we can’t run around trying 10 different methods to kill something without knowing if they would even work and if they don’t it’s because the bestiary is inaccurate or because it’s the wrong monster.”

“Hey my Dad just came home, you wanna-“ Excellent idea.

“Yeah, hand me over.” Chris greeted him in that clipped tone of his and started talking Stiles through the pages of the bestiary currently covering Stiles’ desk as well as the basement of the Argents.

“What we’re looking at is either a demon or some sort of shtriga. But if I had to pick one, I’d go for the demon. A shtriga usually hunts exclusively for infants, not adults. It’s highly unlikely this one changed its habits out of curiosity or whatever reason there may be.” Stiles heard Chris flick through pages.

“I just don’t get it. I mean, first hunters and then nearly at the same time a monster? It’s a bit odd, don’t you think?” Stiles mused while browsing through Google.

“Yes. It is odd. Even if those hunters don’t have a code, they should still be on the hunt for the monster. Yes, a pack with two Alphas is worth a lot and possibly regarded more dangerous than others but a monster openly killing people– and quite a large scale of them too– should make them switch targets.” Ah finally someone who used his brain. Stiles really appreciated Chris, as an ally as well as a friend. He had become a protector of the pack ever since he and Derek had put their differences aside.

“It’s unusual.” Chris summed up.

“Yeah but that’s our thing, right? We just have to get to the bottom of it.” Chris only answered with something akin to an affirming sound.

“Let me know if there is anything you find that I haven’t. I’ll contact one of my friends and his family down South. They have dealt with spirits and similar things, maybe they know something.”

The call ended and Stiles wasn’t any closer to a solution than a minute before. But something about Chris’ attitude was infectious and it made him dive into research head first. By the end of the day, he had his yarn spun across his room and nearly got tangled in it while trying to explain to his Dad that they needed to draw a radius for the monster’s hunting territory in connection with the warehouse and the hunter’s territory. It turned out to be an all-nighter for both of them…

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles’ meeting with Deaton arrived faster than he was prepared for. He walked into the clinic, was surprised to see neither Alpha but Peter lurk in the corner and immediately asked Deaton why his presence was required.

“You may have realised that you are able to do things others are unable to even if they believe strongly in the task. That, Mr. Stilinski, is what we call a spark.”

When Stiles didn’t answer, the vet rolled his eyes and continued.

“You may remember the incident with the Kanima, when you created a circle to cage it in?”  Stiles nodded. To himself, he wondered if this was the longest time he had ever been quiet. Which it was, probably. Then, suddenly something blinked in his head like a red light– impossible to ignore.

“Fuck.” he blurted out.  

“Language, Mr. Stilinski.”

“Sorry, it’s just that- when I was in that– in that warehouse something happened to my eye and I panicked and thought I was going blind because I couldn’t see part of the left corner and now it’s gone. Actually, it was gone even before the pack showed up to save me. And I remember praying, wishing for it to go away. And when I woke up, it was gone. I just didn’t realise because everything else started hurting so badly…”

Deaton looked pleased, Peter smirked proudly.

“That is exactly what I was referring to.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means that there is something in you that’s not quite normal. In fact, I’d not be surprised if it turned out you’re not exactly as much human as we thought you to be.” Peter mussed from the shadows. Stiles had to sit down, his knees were suddenly quite unstable.

“I would have to agree, even though, I would have worded it more carefully.” Deaton scolded.

“Come now, doc. He had to hear it at some point. No need to dance around the bush as my wonderful niece would say.”

“Mr. Stilinski, I would like for you to come here daily to study your abilities, so that you can use them safely.” Deaton offered and it took Stiles a minute or two to grasp the concept presented to him.

“You mean training? I can use it to help others right? Help the pack…”

“That would be the idea, yes.”

Before Stiles could bombard him with– what Deaton assumed was about a thousand questions– he had to remind the boy: “Of course, you’ll have to get permission from your Alphas.” The groan that followed came from both Peter and Stiles.

“What are you even doing here?” Stiles had been curious for a while now.

“I am here because I suspected you were a Spark even before the mountain ash incident and talked to Deaton here about it. Therefore, I think I’m entitled to reap the fruits of my hard work. Or at least witness them come to be.” Seldomly had Stiles seen Peter look that self-assured and pleased.

“Scott won’t have a problem with me training…” Stiles trailed off, all too aware that everyone in the room knew that he was stalling.

“You’ll have to talk to him eventually.” Peter said.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… he won’t be happy.”

“No, my dear nephew gets a heart-attack every time you so much as stumble, so no, he will not be a happy puppy when you tell him you are going to train your magic under Deaton’s guidance. And with a little help from his favourite uncle.” Peter smirked, Deaton huffed.

“I will not act without your Alphas’ permission. Plural.” It was a final answer and Stiles accepted it as such.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles called for a meeting with the two Alphas the next morning. Scott came in with the attitude of a five-year-old in a candy shop and Derek– well, Derek looked exactly like he usually did, maybe a bit grumpier.

Stiles had had a list of reasons prepared but didn’t even get to open his mouth before Scott said “Yes.”  
  
“Derek?” He addressed the other, hope swinging in his voice. Derek still faced the floor. He still didn’t like to be put on the spot like this. Stiles understood, but he needed an answer or Deaton would refuse to teach him. Which was not the goal of today’s meeting.

“I would strongly recommend, you choose your answer wisely, nephew…” Peter snarled from God knows where he came from. Stiles glared at him. This was his house, he had not been invited and should damn well know by now to at least knock for fuck’s sake.

“He’s a menace without magic.” Derek argued, held high and chin strutting forward defiantly. Stiles was about to hit him on the head, when Peter spoke up again.

“He is talented, Derek!” Stiles redoubled. This was high praise coming from Peter. The wolf in question just winked at him.

“You know that, I know that, even Scott knows that.” Scott started to protest but was shushed by two hands held up in front of his face from both Derek and Peter.

“Still, what if he hurts himself?”

Stiles was sick of being talked about as if he wasn’t there even though the whole conversation was about him. He should have a say in this.

“Derek, I hurt myself on a daily basis. That’s not a reason for me to not train.”

“It is for me.” It should have sounded condescending if it weren’t for the blush on Derek’s face, the warmth in his eyes. Stiles stared at him, suddenly much more aware of the way Derek conducted himself. He wasn’t being mean, he was truly concerned for Stiles’ wellbeing.

“I get that, Sourwolf. But it’s a safe environment. It’s practise. That’s what you do with the pack every weekend. Deaton is not going to let me get hurt.” Derek didn’t look convinced. Not even remotely. He huffed in exasperation.

“Why am I the only one concerned by this?”

“You’re not, Derek. But Stiles is capable of doing this. He wants to do it. And all he needs is for you to just let him. It’s his decision.” Scott spoke words of wisdom and at that hour too. Stiles was baffled. Derek stared at him as if he just recited every decimal of pi correctly. Stiles shared the sentiment.

“There you have it.” Peter, helpful as ever, smirked.

“Stiles.” He jumped at the sudden mention of his name.

“Is that really what you want?” Derek had asked him. He had asked. And that made all the difference to Stiles when weeks prior the Alpha would simply have walked out of the door.

“Yes.” He confirmed. Derek was about to cave, he could see it.

“Can you promise me not to take any unnecessary risks? I know that it’s quite the feat for you but can you try?” Derek had cracked a joke. Jesus this morning was full of surprises. He was still basking in happiness at Derek’s change of heart, when the wolf spoke again, this time more quietly.

“Promise me?” It was so soft, so tentative that it made Stiles’ heart melt.

“Promise, Derek.” He agreed and saw a genuine smile tug at the corners of Derek’s lips.

“Very well, as interesting as that was to watch, I have places to be.” Peter ruined the moment and strutted out of the door, not even bothered to close it behind him. Stiles rolled his eyes at his dramatics.

“I’ll uh- Kira called and she wants to go for ice cream. You guys okay if I leave?” Scott asked with flaming cheeks. It was adorable.

“Sure, say hi to her from us.” The door fell close behind Scott when Stiles suddenly realised what he had said. Us. From us. The tips of Derek’s ears were suspiciously red. And his shoulders had climbed up to his ears sometime in the last minute.

“I should- I should go…” Derek mumbled, not even looking at Stiles. When he reached the door, Stiles called after him.

“Thank you.” Derek didn’t turn around but his steps seemed lighter and his shoulders back at normal-shoulder level. Almost as if he was happy. Stiles decided to count this as a win and called Deaton, who was– _astonishingly_ – not surprised.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Two days prior_ **

_The door closed behind him, informing the other inhabitants that he was home. Three pairs of arms grabbed for the various food items in his arms, putting the pile in severe danger of falling._

_“They were out of cookies, but I brought some doughnuts.” Derek knew it was a small consolation but he couldn’t bear the look on Isaac’s face whenever he came home without any sweets at all.  
_

_“The ones with chocolate glaze?” He would have to find a way to switch off the level of cuteness radiating from Isaac. And the bastard was doing it on purpose too. Still, he put the box of baked goods in his hands and watched with no small amount of joy how Isaac shoved two of them into his mouth, grinning around the chocolate. As much as he could anyway._

_“What about the-“  
_

_“Yes, Erica. I got your ice cream.” Erica caught the cups easily._

_To Derek, it was a normal afternoon. That was until the Betas circled him and demanded for him to “Sit your ass down on the couch or so help me, Derek!” in Erica’s words. He didn’t even want to guess what this was about, the possibilities varying from bad to gradually worse._

_“Stiles.” Boyd summed up everyone’s thoughts. Several alarms went off in Derek’s head. This was definitely on this side of worse._

_“What about Stiles?” He asked. It felt like a minefield.  
_

_“Derek, I swear to everything that is holy if you even attempt to dodge that conversation, I’m going to run right over and tell Stiles that you hid his red hoodie because you flip your shit every time he wears it!” Derek’s insides clenched immediately. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt threatened by anyone in the pack– well, apart from Peter since he was still Peter, but even he had been better lately._

_“We just want to talk…” Isaac offered._

_“About what?” He flinched when Erica cracked her knuckles and flared her eyes at him._

_“About your feelings, you utter moron!” The Beta bellowed.  
_

_“We know, Derek. The whole pack knows.” The betrayal. It wounded him deeply that Boyd, diplomatic, un-intrusive Boyd took their side.  
_

_“Does Stiles know?” He didn’t know which answer would be worse._

_The scoff that followed was as simultaneous as it was impressive. Even he was ready to admit that. He just didn’t see why it was warranted. Stiles was one of the most intelligent people he knew, surely, he had figured it out by now._

_“Are you serious? It’s Stiles, Derek. Why would he even think you’d want him.” To Derek that didn’t make any sense. Because it was Stiles, he had been pretty sure that he knew all about it._

_“Can you honestly tell me that you think Stiles Stilinski believes you have any feelings for him whatsoever?”  
_

_“Yes?”  
_

_“NO!” If the three of them didn’t stop speaking simultaneously, he would strangle them._

_“Why not? He is smart!” How could they think Stiles wasn’t smart?  
_

_“Yes. That’s exactly the point. He is smart. And he has put together a list longer than the goddamn telephone book where he states every reason why you can’t possibly be interested in him.” They were mad. All of them– collectively. Stiles included._

_“Don’t give me that look.” Isaac defended himself. “I haven’t talked to him about it, but it’s obvious.”  
_

_“I actually did talk to him because– you know– we’re friends. And I can guarantee you that he has it all figured out that you don’t care about him and you think he is this weak, clumsy boy that means nothing to you.”  
_

_“He’s not– that’s not– what?”_

_“We know that it’s not true. But Stiles doesn’t. He honestly thinks you are not interested.” Boyd stated._

_“You just need to show him that he isn’t defenceless, that he isn’t weak and that you don’t think he can’t fight.” Erica contemplated. “I think that’s actually the biggest issue. That you won’t let him make his own decisions.” A growl emerged from his throat at the thought of Stiles asking to train. All the ways he would get hurt played in his head on a loop._

_“That’s what he feels like, Derek. If someone says you hurt them, you don’t get a say in it. And he needs you to show him that you trust him. Not only with the pack but with himself. Let him train. Let him fight…”  
_

_“But he’ll get hurt! Why does no one understand this?” Derek roared, feeling caught._

_“We do understand! But Stiles doesn’t see it that way! And if you ever– ever– want him to realise you at least don’t hate him– because we know you have your reasons for not attempting a relationship with him-“  
_

_“Which are stupid by the way. He likes you, you like him, it’s not that hard.” Isaac interrupted._

_“As I was saying. You need to at least respect him enough to let him make his own decisions. Yes, he can get hurt but it hurts him more when you treat him like that. And it’s hurting the pack too. We’re not whole if he’s not there. It strains the bond and you know it. So get your head out of your ass and let him train when he asks you about it.”_

_“It hurts him?” Derek sounded small when he asked the question. He hadn’t anticipated for Stiles to be hurt– mad and angry, yes but not hurt._

_“YES! Fuck! He likes you! And you keep pushing him away. And I was there, Derek. After you two had your falling out. And he was a mess. He kept talking about how someone like you would never like him for him, how you think he isn’t worth anything and that you don’t care about him! So just-“  
_

_“I didn’t- that’s not what I wanted-“  
_

_“No, you wanted to push him away because the hunters got him! You wanted him safe and we get that! But you have to start trusting him! This isn’t okay for you to do to him and you know it!”_

_“So what am I supposed to do?” He didn’t like asking for advice, but even he knew that he needed help. He still couldn’t suppress the shiver of fear whenever he thought about Stiles in danger but he also realised that Stiles was his own person and he couldn’t stop him from training. But he would never like it. Not when so many people were out to hurt Stiles just because he was with Derek._

_“Let him train. Respect his decisions. Don’t make him feel like he is weak. Show him that you care for him, show him that you know he is capable of fighting.”  
_

_“Derek, Stiles was treated like a side-kick all his life. He needs to feel important and capable.” Boyd said with the quiet strength he possessed._

_“He was never a side-kick to me.” Derek admitted._

_“ **We** know that.” Isaac emphasised. “Make sure **Stiles** knows it too.”_

 

* * *

 

After dinner was dealt with and the pack was snuggling in the comfy seats Lydia had purchased a week ago, Isaac cleared his throat.

“So how’s your training with Deaton going?” he asked, bouncing in his seat like an eager puppy.

“Oh, he’s brilliant.” Peter commented from some corner where he was lurking as usual.

“As if that’s a surprise…” Lydia scoffed. She kept staring at her nails but Stiles felt her full attention on him. If he was not sorely mistaken, she was beyond curious and doing a shitty job at hiding it.

“I tried a few spells yesterday and Deaton showed me how to make a salve to tend to wolfsbane-induced injuries. There’s a lot of herbs involved though. I don’t know if I’ve ever gonna get them all into my head. And he had me gather them all by myself. I was out in the preserve for hours until I found them. See, there’s this one in particular that only grows like at the root of a tree that is exactly seven years old and has a split crown– which is ridiculously specific by the way– but I got it and then we did this thing where we kinda mixed them up and I thought it’d be like medicine or something but it totally wasn’t. It was awesome. Purple smoke puffed out of the jar like in that movie where-“ but before he could lose his focus and start up a discussion about the movie, Peter demanded his attention by coughing.

“Tell them about the spell you did today. I’m sure they want to hear aaaall about it.” Oh, he was going to murder him. For real this time. Zombie wolf and banshee powers may be damned. He would kill Peter _dead_.

“It was great, I made his heart restart.” When none of the pack asked how they managed to even stop Peter’s heart in the first place, a glint in the wolf’s eyes told Stiles he was in for a lot of trouble. The wolf certainly didn’t take kindly to such a blatant disregard of his personal safety. Even if he had suggested they try it on him voluntarily.

“And to think, it almost didn’t happen. Such a shame that would have been.” Peter tsked.

_Fuck!_

“What do you mean, it almost didn’t happen? Did you almost die again? For fuck’s sake, Peter.” Cora cursed, fed up with her uncle already. Stiles couldn’t fault her for it. He had had quite enough of the older wolf too– at least for today.

“Well, why don’t you tell them, Stiles?” But it wasn’t Peter his gaze wandered to. It was Derek. The Alpha clutched the door frame with so much force, the paint crumbled under his claws.

“It took a lot. For me to restart it. And I almost couldn’t do it…” He knew he was stalling but he really didn’t want to get into an argument with Derek yet again.

“A lot… What is a lot?” Scott asked, worry on his face.

“You see, our young Spark here almost stopped his own heart trying to restart mine.” the gasp that followed was deafening. All heads turned to him, then to Derek, then back to him. He braced himself for a lecture, for the slamming of doors and the Camaro driving away to God knows where.

But nothing happened.

“You restarted it?” Derek pressed out through clenched fangs. It was not what Stiles had prepared himself for. Not at all.

“Yes...?” The blow-up was coming, he could feel it in his bones.

“Be more careful next time.”

What?

This was not what was supposed to happen. In fact, it was so out of character that Stiles asked Scott’s confirmation later, on Derek still being himself and not a demon in disguise.

Maybe it didn’t sound like much for Derek to just let this go, but for Stiles it was as if he had won the Olympics.

 

* * *

 

 

The day came when Derek had scheduled another training session for the pack. Stiles attended as he always did but this time, he was allowed– grudgingly– to participate. He watched Boyd put Aiden to the ground, which was a feat in and of itself and also saw Aiden’s come back which involved an elaborate chain of movements no one– apart from Ethan– would ever be able to recreate. Isaac badgered Scott for quite some time until they both fell to the ground exhausted. Cora and Erica were going at each other like there was no tomorrow.

It looked fun.

Stiles moved towards Kira to train with her when a firm grip on his shoulder stopped him.

“You’re with me.” Alright. He was about to die. Goodbye cruel world. Derek led– and by led, Stiles meant shoved and pulled– him to a place somewhat isolated from the rest of the pack.

“Show me what you’ve got.” Derek seemed to be in an exceptionally great mood today. Which was a miracle and scary at the same time. Then, the full impact of his words, and each and every implication it entailed, hit him. He couldn’t help but ask himself if that was, what Derek flirting was like. Stiles forced himself to remember that they were by no means on flirting terms. It was hard, but he managed. Then the first blow came and he went down like a sack of rice.

Angry, he got up from the ground, prepared himself and launched into an attack. Derek hadn’t seen him coming– for some reason, Stiles didn’t want to dwell too closely on– and was utterly defenceless when Stiles landed a kick in his stomach. That the others had stopped fighting and were watching with equally amused and frightened expressions, didn’t even register with the pair of them.

“You’re going down, Sourwolf,” Stiles huffed after a particular vicious kick he had learned from Jackson. Derek smirked. And that should be declared unfair advantage. Because it was distracting and sexy as hell.

He couldn’t help it, he stared.

And missed Derek moving behind him until he felt his breath on his neck. Stiles shivered, whipped around. The magic crept slowly up his fingers until it crackled in the air around him.

“Your eyes,” Derek whispered, as if in awe. Stiles wanted to laugh at the look on Derek’s face, his mouth open and his eyes comically wide, but feeling that awe directed at him was breath-taking.

Not for long though. Derek regained his senses quickly and threw a mean punch in Stiles’ face, which would have hurt like hell if his magic hadn’t blocked it. In fact, it was hard enough to clash against the shield and make it shiver, if not break. He was proud to see that Derek was out of breath too. He wasn’t that much of an easy target anymore.

Somewhere behind him, the girls– and Scott, bless him– had started chanting his name like they were cheering for a lacrosse game. He couldn’t pay them much attention, he had to focus.

Not for long and the pair was dancing around each other, like they had practised it for weeks, falling easily back into habits developed of years fighting side by side. Whenever Derek would move, Stiles would to. It was as if they balanced each other out, neither having an advantage over the other.

Equals.

Stiles’ heart kicked against his rib-cage, stopped for a millisecond when the thought of being able to take on Derek in a fight this long occurred to him and he watched his opponent’s eyes darken instantly.

Something changed in the air. Derek stared at his lips, threw himself into a full-on attack and tackled Stiles to the ground.

Or attempted to. Because Stiles had seen him move, had put all his magic into his arms and had flipped them over before they even made contact with the grass. He landed on Derek, face inches away from the other’s.

He could feel Derek’s breath on his face, saw his eyes dart to his lips and up again in a silent question. Stiles leaned forward, hopeful and oh so eager.

Desire burned in his veins for the man gripping his hips painfully tight.

He closed his eyes, Derek took a breath…

And then he was shoved onto his ass.

Derek was up and running towards the house as if a hoard of pixies was on his trail. Stiles tried not to feel insulted but it was for naught.

Disappointment, hurt, anger, all of it crashed in all at once. He had really thought…

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles’ mailbox was overflowing with messages from the pack, telling him that Derek had made a run for it. Stiles wasn’t even surprised. He had suspected Derek to flee when he had been shoved aside like that. His training with Deaton increased in difficulty, now consisting of defence spells and means to protect the pack with mountain ash and herbs alike. It was on the second day of Derek’s disappearance that Deaton asked for a conversation in private, Peter being practically kicked out of the room.

“Mr. Stilinski– Stiles, I think you are ready to take on the official role of the Hale-McCall-Pack emissary.”

Stiles had to sit down.

And breathe.

And breathe some more.

They had talked about it in passing but never had he thought this was an option.

“But- I have to inform you, this will not only bind you to the pack, it will bind you to the territory. Derek’s territory specifically. And you will have a crucial role in the pack dynamic. There is no choosing another pack, another Alpha.” He wouldn’t leave them anyway. This was his pack and this was who he would always stand by, no matter what.

When he told Deaton he was ready, the vet calmly burdened him with the task of asking permission of his two Alphas once again. Great. How he would do that with Derek out of town was beyond him. Scott, however, waited for him outside of the clinic, smile blinding as it could be.

“You eavesdropped.” It wasn’t really an accusation.

“Yep! This is so awesome. You’ll be such a badass emissary. I can’t wait to tell Kira.” Stiles loved Scott’s enthusiasm, even when he was ignoring the one hurdle in their way.

“You still haven’t heard from him?” Stiles asked hesitantly. Scott shook his head “no”.

“Well, then I won’t be emissary in the next future.” A feeling of bitterness closed up his throat.

“Call him. Tell him to get back here.”

“As if. He’d run the other way if I even dialled his number. And we haven’t had the best luck with phones anyway.” Stiles thought back to that day, to the heat of Derek’s body under his and saw Scott discreetly turn away, the scent of his arousal overwhelming for the wolf.

“Trust me. Call him. Maybe he just needs a kick in the butt.” Yeah, ‘cause that would go over so well. But Scott had a point somehow. They needed Derek here, especially with this mayhem going down.

“One! One call! If he doesn’t pick up, you drive out there and drag him back.” Stiles threatened. As expected, Derek didn’t pick up but Scott bullied Stiles into leaving a voice mail.

“Hey, so I know you’re hiding and doing your Alpha stuff but we really need you to come home, Derek. We can just forget it happened, if you want that, or we can talk about it. But there is things I want to discuss with you– about the pack actually– and I can’t do that if you’re not here. So, uh if you can, stop hiding.” Scott gave him a thumbs up but he wasn’t finished.

“Please come home.” He didn’t know what had made him say that but he had meant it. He missed the grumpy wolf terribly.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Stiles woke up to three missed calls from the Sourwolf and promptly felt like throwing up. He immediately redialled, heart racing in his chest when Derek picked up.

“Stiles. You’re on speaker. I’m on my way.” He was on his way. He was coming home.

To them.

To him.

“What did you need to talk to me about?” Derek’s tone was careful, as if tipping around the real question of him running away.

Oh well, here goes nothing.

“I want to be your emissary.” What followed that sentence was a colourful string of curses and what sounded to Stiles like a car swerving.

“Derek? Derek!” Shit. Had he crashed his car?

“What are you thinking? Are you completely suicidal?” Derek barked down the line. Stiles was glad to hear he was still alive but that changed quickly when his words caught up to him.

“I’m thinking that I’m ready. Deaton and Scott are on board by the way.” He snapped at Derek.

“Scott would follow you to hell and back if you dangled a cookie in front of his face and promised you had it under control!” Derek yelled and Stiles could tell he was already shifting.

“Derek! Stop the car! Stop it now!” From the sound of it, Derek did.

“You just started training! There is no way you are ready! I don’t want you doing this!” Derek yelled into the phone so loudly that Stiles had to hold it away from his ear.

“I won’t allow it!” How many times had they been over this? And Stiles had truly thought he had changed.

“Look, I don’t want to have an argument—”

“Then stop talking!” was the last thing he heard before the call was disconnected. The son of a bitch had hung up on him.

Stiles immediately called Scott.

“Go to his house, wait there for him and kick his fucking ass when he gets there!” Stiles barked, much to Scott’s surprise.

“What did he do now?” But Stiles was beyond explaining. He was seething in his seat, restless with anger.

“Tell me when he gets there! I have to breathe for a sec!”

 

* * *

 

Scott’s call came two hours later. It had been long enough for Stiles to calm down but not enough for his anger to have disappeared. He had broken at least six laws when driving the Jeep to Derek’s but luckily for him, Parrish was the one to pull him over. After seeing Stiles’ expression– and probably the steam coming out of his ears– he let him go with a warning.

Stiles reached Derek’s house in record time and nearly broke the door by knocking on it.

Loudly.

It opened immediately, reminding Stiles once again that Derek had probably heard him coming from a mile away.

Neither greeted each other, the wolf simply stepping aside to let the human pass. Even before the door completely closed behind him, Stiles threw himself into a rant.

“You owe it to me! Fuck, Derek after everything you owe this to me! There is finally a chance for me to be useful, so let me-“

“You are useful! You don’t need– magic is dangerous, it always comes with a price– this isn’t worth it– you don’t need– “ Derek bellowed, his eyes bleeding red.

“Fuck that! Seriously, Derek! Why are you so against me pulling my weight? Every time it comes to that, you shut me down! We’ve had that argument so many times! And this is finally something I can do– something that none of you can– so let me do it! Let me help!”

_“You help enough!”_

“I can do more!”

“Nobody needs you to do more! You are good enough without this! We don’t need you to learn magic to defend us! That’s not how it works!”

“You didn’t complain when I started practicing! So what’s that supposed to mean? Why is it a problem now? Just because I want to be your emissary? A change in title is what has you so on edge? Or are you saying, I can’t protect you– because that’s some Grade A bullshit!”

“I’m saying we have claws and fangs for a reason! You said it yourself: we’re the muscle you are the brain!”

“I don’t want to be just the brain! I don’t want to sit at home and wait for one of you to call me, telling me that one of my pack died because I wasn’t there!”

“No one is going to die because you aren’t there!”

“You don’t know that! What if there is mountain ash? A druid? A darach? You know how these things go!” Maybe bringing up the darach was a low shot but he was out of options. He needed Derek to understand.

“Yes, yes, I know. And that’s precisely, why you’re not becoming our emissary!”

“Why? Why are you so against it? Don’t you trust me?”

 ** _“No!”_** Derek yelled so loudly that Scott beside him winced. Stiles felt all breath leave him.

 _“_ _What?”_ he asked quietly. His trust was the one thing, Stiles had been sure was not an imagination of his pack. But before he could even be truly hurt over it, Derek was already rambling on. 

“I don’t trust you, not to run in and defend us instead of yourself. You did that without magic. You do that with magic. You’ll do that even more as our emissary. You’ll put yourself in danger to save us, you’ll drain yourself just to help us and I won’t have it!” Derek snarled.

“I won’t-“

“YES! YES, YOU WILL! Because that’s what you do, Stiles! That’s what you always do! You throw yourself into danger head first without thinking it through! And you get hurt! You are always– _always_ – the one that gets hurt! And I’m so sick of it!”

Stiles heard Derek take a shaky breath before he continued.

“And one day, it won’t stop there! You will go all in- with your magic and your spark- like you always do and you will get yourself killed! And then what? What am I supposed to do without you then!”

Derek was breathing heavily, Scott looked shell-shocked.

“I WON’T DO THAT! I would never leave you behind! I want to be your emissary to avoid getting any of us killed! Why don’t you get that? Knowing magic isn’t enough! I need to work with you, both of you! My magic would be woven into the pack- it’d make all of you stronger! And I want to be able to defend myself! Like I told you over and over and over again when you wouldn’t let me train! I need to be able to defend myself AND my pack! It goes hand in hand!” Stiles yelled at Derek.

“You don’t need to defend the pack! The pack needs to defend you!” Derek yelled back, just as loudly.

“That’s not how it works and you know it!”

“That’s how it should work! That’s what pack is for. We protect each other!” Derek matched him word for word. It was almost comical, how easily they fell into that pattern of riling each other up, of countering each other every step of the way. Neither was willing to give even an inch. It occurred to both Stiles and Scott in the same moment, how utterly perfect Derek would be for Stiles. It made his heart ache for the man in front of him.

“But not me, right? I’m not allowed to protect anyone!”

“Not like this!” Derek looked ready to rip his head off. Scott moved in between them.

“Then what? You let me study magic but don’t use it? Because that’s bullshit and you know it! If you were in my shoes, would you sit at home and wait for that call? Would you? You of all people? You who is always the one getting himself nearly killed because you have no regards for your own safety! Like I have told you times and times again! And now you’re here trying to tell me not to do that very same thing you always do?”

“I’m the Alpha!” Derek roared, “I protect them! I protect you! It doesn’t matter if I get hurt!” Derek’s face closed up the second the words left his mouth. He looked ready to bolt. Meanwhile, Stiles was dumbstruck in the doorway.

“What the fuck, man?” Scott stared at Derek like someone kicked his puppy.

“Derek-“

“No, Stiles!” Derek turned swiftly and honest to God ran up the stairs, slamming the door to his room shut behind him. Stiles turned to Scott.

“Did you know he still thinks we won’t care? Scott…“

“No- I thought he- you know after all the pack meetings- I really thought…”

“How can he not see how much they all love him? How much we love him? I don’t-“

They looked at each other.

“You get it, don’t you?” Scott asked tentatively, “why he doesn’t want you to become the emissary?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, already on defense. But before he could start an argument again, Scott put a hand on his arm.

“He cares so much about you. It’s obvious to anyone but you. I know you don’t believe it, even after the training. You still don’t believe it. Not really. But I always suspected- and that right there just confirmed it.”

“Confirmed what?”

“He… loves you. No- Stiles, listen. He does. Didn’t you hear what he said? He is so afraid you’ll get killed, that you won’t be there anymore and that it will be his fault. So he’ll do anything he can to stop you from putting yourself into harm’s way. Especially like that. You’re vulnerable as our emissary, more so than as a spark because it’d be official. And he can’t deal with that. So what he does, is make sure you hate him, ignore you, refuse to train you so that you don’t come running after him when he walks into a fight.” If Stiles didn’t know better, he’d accuse Scott of listening in to his conversation with the girls. It was spooky, is what it was. And he didn’t have an answer to that.

“He’d rather you never talk to him again than you die trying to protect him.”

Yeah, he had heard that one before too.

“I don’t-“ He had gotten around to Derek liking him– at least a little bit– but more often than not, particularly when they were fighting like today, his doubts got the best of him. Insecurities didn’t vanish in the blink of an eye. And they especially didn’t if the man in question disappeared for three days after almost kissing you. Which hadn’t been his finest hour, he was ready to admit. He had still been angry about that phone call. But rationality had flown right out of the window the second he had felt Derek’s hands around him. How stupid he had been to think, Derek was interest enough to finally admit to it or– you know– do something about it. His running away didn’t exactly made Stiles confident that they were on the same page.

“Just think about it, okay?” Scott pleaded.

“It’s still not okay, you know? I’m an adult, he can’t make those decisions for me. I won’t let him.” That’s what was a deal breaker to him. That Derek wouldn’t let him make his own choices. And as long as he did that, Stiles wasn’t ready to commit to a relationship with him, if Derek even wanted that.

“I’m not saying you should. And I promise, I have your back. You’d make an awesome emissary.” Scott pat his shoulder, a warm smile on his face.

“I’ll go home. I need to think on this. Can you make sure he doesn’t shoot himself with the wolfsbane bullet? I think he’s in for a rough night.” Stiles glanced at the ceiling, worry slowly making itself a permanent inhabitant of his heart.

 “Make sure you get home safe.” Scott hugged him goodbye, scenting him before he let go. Stiles climbed into the Jeep, his heart racing and his head turning.

He didn’t know what to do.

The temptation to drive back to the loft and kiss Derek senseless was overwhelming but so was his anger. He needed Derek to commit to this to, to be able to tell him what he was feeling and to stop making decisions for him. Also, if he didn’t put his foot down on this one, then Derek would keep thinking it was okay to treat him like that. It wasn’t a question of feelings at this point– even Stiles grudgingly admitted to himself– but one of trust. Derek may think he trusted Stiles, but he obviously still didn’t where it counted. And that was an issue. He would not let this go. If they were to enter a relationship at any point, they needed to be equals.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t work.

The drive took longer than usual since Stiles was replaying the last hour over and over in his head, recalling everything Derek had said, every word so that he could make sense of this mess. When he finally arrived home, he grabbed his bag from the trunk and suddenly stopped. The sight of a bow and arrow was nothing unusual, but something about this triggered a memory.

Before he knew, what he was doing, he had his mobile in hand and was dialing Derek’s number. It didn’t even ring twice before a gruff voice greeted him. He was so relieved to hear Derek answer him- on the first try and after a fight- that he almost forgot what he needed to say. Reality came crashing in after a second.

Adrenaline spiked his veins.

Derek had picked up and he seemed to be listening.  

_“Derek! Derek, listen. I need you to listen! I found it- I know what it is…”_

 

  
 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it to here, then you stuck with me through all this chaos and I'm really grateful for that. One more chapter and a grande finale to go.


	4. Parniel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That vital page of the Bestiary you are all dying to see...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your theories on how this story will end and what the monster actually wants.


	5. You're All I Need...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grande Finale

_"Love could be labelled poison but we’d drink it anyways."_

 

“Stiles! Stiles, I need you to slow down!”

Derek’s voice rang in his ears but only peripherally. He was overwhelmed with a need to sit down, all the information that had been hidden somewhere in the depth of his brain now came rushing to the surface. He gripped for the door of the Jeep to hold onto. The phone was still pressed to his ear but he didn’t follow the rush of words Derek was spewing out.

“Stiles? Are you there? Stiles!” Wow, the Sourwolf could yell exceptionally loudly.

“Stiles! Don’t make me run over there!” Huh. No, no that was not right. Derek needed to stay inside. That was important.

“Screw it!” And the call was disconnected.

Stiles still hadn’t found his balance. His knees wobbled and simply wouldn’t support his weight. His vision started to blur, the house in front of him shifted in and out of focus so much so that his stomach screamed with the need to vomit. He let himself fall to the ground, wrapped his hands around his knees and rocked himself softly.

All the while, he waited for the noise in his ears to stop but it only became louder. Being robbed of his sight and hearing made him feel incredibly disoriented, unsafe. He wasn’t all too sure about the reason for the sudden rise in his heart-beat. But he wanted it to stop. He had half a mind to acknowledge that this was a panic attack.

For a moment, he wished Lydia was here to kiss him out of it but then thought better of it. Not that it would work with her anyway. To his left a door fell shut– or so he thought.

He tried to peek over his folded arms but couldn’t see anything. Black spots danced behind his closed eyelids.

“Stiles?” Oh, that was a nice voice. He liked that voice. But he didn’t like the firm grip on his arm. He tried to shake it off, to no avail.

“Stiles, please, listen to me. Listen to my voice…” It sounded vaguely familiar. The person touched his cheeks, made him look up. A figure came into focus, broad shoulders, dark hair.

“Stiles?” He tried to signal that he was listening.

“Stiles! Can you hear me?” This time, he managed an affirming nod.

“I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?” Stiles held the gaze in those red eyes that for some reason helped him breathe more freely.

“Good, put your hand here.” A large hand grabbed his and put it on a firm chest.

“Breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out. That’s it…” The murmuring continued, slowly drowning out the noise inside his head. He felt his chest expand wider and wider until it felt almost back to normal.

“You’re doing so well, keep breathing.”

_Derek._

It was Derek’s voice that was talking so gently to him. The realisation brought a new sense of safety. He managed to unfold himself, reaching for Derek’s shoulders to keep himself steady.

“It’s okay. It’s okay…” Derek kept whispering, pulling Stiles closer until he was nestled against his chest.

“Do you think you can stand up?” Derek asked, still not moving away from Stiles. With trembling fingers, he pushed himself up from the ground, steadied by Derek’s hands that wouldn’t let him go.

“Thanks,” He mumbled and took a step towards the trunk.

“Can you…” He needed to take a breath “can you open the…” Derek had already done it before he could finish the sentence.

“Is there anything you need out of the trunk?” Derek asked, looking around for something Stiles might possibly need.

“No- it’s not…” Stiles leant against the car with one hand, then motioned towards Allison’s bow and arrows which were lying in an almost comically accurate constellation.

“It’s something I saw when I was- when-“ His heart sped up again. Before he fell back into panic mode, Derek made him turn away from the sight.

“Hey- hey, don’t look at it- look at me!” Stiles found Derek’s eyes and held onto them. Fiercely.

“That’s it.” Derek hushed, a genuine smile on his lips.

“When I was in the warehouse-“ he hated how much his voice trembled at the mention of it “when I was there, the- the hunter- he had a- some kind of pendant around his neck- I saw it when he leaned down- and it- I didn’t think any of it, you know? But then I saw the- the bow in the trunk- I remembered…” He was rambling and didn’t make any sense but Derek didn’t rush him.

“What kind of pendant?” There was a curious glint in Derek’s eyes as if he felt how close they were to actually figuring out what was going on.

“Can you- uh- can you come up to my room? I think I have the page from the Bestiary where it’s mentioned…” He didn’t feel comfortable asking Derek to go to his room, even though, they had done it many times before. This times just felt a little different.

“Let me just call Scott. I may have…” Derek stared at a point above Stiles’ head “I may have run out the door when you called…” Red tinged his cheeks.  

“Yeah, sure- I’ll just- wait…”

The call didn’t last long. Stiles heard Scott bark into the phone but he apparently calmed down considerably when Derek told him where he was. They reached the top of the stairs with Derek’s hand on Stiles’ back to keep him from falling them back down. Stiles frantically searched the papers, throwing books on his bed, nearly hitting his head on his desk when he scrambled around on the floor.

“Can I…” Derek scratched the backside of his head “Do you want me to help?” Stiles needed a minute to process that Derek asked because he wasn’t sure he was allowed.

“Just- there’s this page, with- I- it has Chris’ handwriting on it and- I don’t know, some purple ink? There are three sketches on it…” he described while looking through the waste-paper. Stiles was going crazy with urgency and that damned page was nowhere to be found. Derek searched more methodically but didn’t find it either. He knew though, with absolute confidence that the page had to be there. Just not where there was.

“Are you sure that-“

“HA!” Stiles yelled, this time actually bumping his head on the edge of the desk while he shot to his feet.

“Look! Look at it! Derek, this is it!” And Derek did indeed look. Directly over Stiles’ shoulder.

“See that sigil? It looks kinda like a bow and arrow- it’s what that- what the hunter had around his neck!” He grabbed another blank page and hastily drew what his memory had supplied him with. The images matched almost perfectly.

“But what does it mean? What do they want with a demon? Shouldn’t they want to kill him?”

“Not if it gets them what they want!”

“But what do they want?”

“The pack! They want the pack gone! And we’ve been feeding into that like fucking idiots!”

“What?”

“Just let me- let me call Chris!” He jumped over the bed to get to his phone he had stored on the desk. Chris picked up almost immediately.

“Stiles? What is it?”

“We’ve got it! Page 314. Parniel. The jackal of hell.” Chris was running down the stairs, at least judging by the sounds of something hitting the steps repeatedly.

“Are you sure? Stiles? I need you to be sure!”

“He is sure!” Derek barked into the phone. Stiles took a moment to appreciate the confidence.

“Well, that’s not good then.”

“Not good how?” Stiles feared Chris’ not goods, they usually were synonymous for hell on earth. Which was ironic, considering they were up against a demon. Brilliant.

“What if I told you that I know that symbol. That it’s similar to one I learned to forge into a silver bullet a long time ago…” He trailed off. Neither Derek nor Stiles moved, they simply stared.

“Chris?” Derek urged him to continue. The fatal punch came when Chris spoke up again, voice estranged and husky.

“It belongs to an old family. A family of hunters.”

 

* * *

 

 

The emergency pack meeting was held in as much secrecy as it could be. Stiles suspected that the hunters were still keeping tabson them, therefore, it was in their best interest that the meeting went over without a hinge. Isaac looked particularly distraught at being called off his job. Chris barged in with all the air of someone on a mission. His face didn’t move but Stiles could see it in his eyes that he was distraught.

“Arc. Arrow. That’s their name. It’s similar to ours, another weapon to kill the supernatural. Another hunter legacy. But they don’t follow a code. They kill anything– anything at all– that stands in their way. That they are here, means that they have a target and that they won’t hesitate to use every means necessary to meet their goal.” Silence followed his words, loaded with all the possibilities this could and likely would end badly.

“The demon- that demon that attacked you is called Parniel. It looks like a jackal, scales hardened by hellfire– at least that is how it is described. It feeds off of life force until the victim is dry. The claws-“ he looked at Scott “are poisonous, made to paralyse, the fangs are what it uses to feed. The poison does affect wolves to an extent. It will slow down the healing process as you have already experienced.” Apparently, that was all Chris was going to say.

“So, they are working together? Did I understand that correctly?” Peter piped up, sounding angrier than he had in a long time.

“It’s likely. Stiles saw the sigil around the hunter’s neck. The demon is summoned with this and only this sigil. That is too much of a coincidence to me.”

“How do we kill it?” Chris’ eyes flickered to Stiles. It lasted a second, a mere blink of an eye but Stiles had caught it. 

“A stake to the heart, dipped in the ashes of the last victim is supposed to send it back to hell. But…” 

“But?”

“But it has never been proven.” The finality of those words hit them like a freight train.

“I do think there is a possibility of getting the ashes- we only need a small amount. And a wooden stake shouldn’t be that hard to make…” Scott mused.   

“Can your Dad maybe look up the date of cremation for the last victim?” Isaac suggested tentatively. Stiles didn’t like asking his father for such a thing– it would be highly disrespectful as it was– but they were out of options. The pack dissolved into strategies and talk of increased patrols when Stiles felt a hand on his arm.

“Stiles, can I talk to you for just a moment?” Chris ushered him out of the door and into his car, which was sound proof, obviously.

“It’s not the only option. I know you saw it too.” He cut to the point of what they both knew was written down in the records.

“I didn’t tell Derek. I don’t want to tell the pack. This has to be like Plan Z if everything else fails…” He didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

“I agree. But we have to be prepared. Just in case.” Heavy silence filled up the car.

“I’ll do it.” Stiles said, voice much stronger than he imagined it would be.

“I will too.” They stared at each other, two fighters making a pact to step in if the other was unable to.

 

* * *

 

 

When they re-entered the house, the pack was anxious for their arrival. Derek stared at them with what Stiles thought was suspicion but could have easily been just one of Derek’s usual facial expressions.

“I don’t get it. Why not attack us directly? Why send out a monster that goes on a killing spree, sucking humans dry?” Ethan put into words what everyone else was thinking.

“It’s not that simple. We are a strong pack. The hunters know that. Which is why they kidnapped Stiles after their run in with him and Derek in the woods.” The side-eye to Scott did not go unnoticed.

“It would have worked for Kira as well. They simply thought Stiles was the weakest link with the added bonus of getting Derek to go feral.” Peter explained, somehow once again having more inside than was strictly comfortable. The wolf winced at the mention of his name.

“But you didn’t go feral, instead we knew what their plan was. So, they sent out their pet-demon to attack people in our town to lure us out of hiding. And that worked too. We were on perimeter runs and patrols every night when everyone else was safe and sound in their home. It attacked Derek, it attacked someone in close proximity to Isaac where it made sure that he would see it. No normal monster does that. It wanted our attention. And that was exactly what it got. Because the hunters wanted us busy with the monster so that we wouldn’t come for them after kidnapping me.”

“They are planning something big…” Lydia whispered. Every pair of eyes turned to her. And she stared back. Just not at them. It frightened Stiles to no ends. Because her gaze was somewhere the others couldn’t see, somewhere in the future.

And it was dark.

When her eyes returned back to them, she barely let Stiles out of her sight. But it wasn’t Lydia Stiles looked to.

It was Chris.

Because in that moment, both of them knew.

The atmosphere in the room radiated tension, from Isaac messing up his hair to Scott running up and down. They all felt the strain of the double threat.

Stiles needed a minute to recover from what he had seen in Lydia’s gaze. The definite knowledge of what was about to happen didn’t make the situation any easier. Yes, he would go through with it but he wished it wouldn’t be necessary. While Peter speculated about calling one of their ally-packs for help, Lydia made her way over to him.

“I can be wrong.” She whispered, tears in her too bright eyes. And wouldn’t that be wonderful? If he was the one exception?

“When were you ever wrong, Lydia?” Stiles answered quietly, aware that keen ears were listening in.

“I can be wrong this time! I have to be wrong!” Lydia gripped his hand as if to pull him away from what she had seen in her vision. The desperation in her voice made his heart ache.

“It’s okay- it’ll be okay.” He wasn’t all too sure who he was trying to lie to, her or himself. 

“Stiles-“

“No! You will not cry. Not in a room full of wolves. It will be okay. I promise you, it will all be okay. You know this is important- you know we need to end this…” He pulled her into an embrace, felt her tremble against him.

“Don’t you lie to me, Stiles Stilinski.” She whispered into his shoulder.

“I have to do it. You know I have to.” He couldn’t help the burning in his eyes. It felt too much like a ‘Goodbye’.

“No. You don’t have to. We can find another way. _Let me find another way_ -“ She pleaded, clutching him tightly.

“There is no other way.” Her tears were hot on his shirt.

“Lydia?” Allison asked somewhere behind them. “Lydia, what’s going on? Why are you crying?”

Damn it!

“The vision wasn’t pleasant, is all.” Lydia answered, pulling away from Stiles and wiping her mascara away in one swift motion. Stiles could have kissed his favourite strawberry-blonde goddess.

She was truly brilliant. Her answer wasn’t technically a lie, so neither the wolves nor the humans picked up on it. When his gaze found Derek’s, he saw the wolf looking suspicious but not too worried. At least, if Stiles read his eyebrows correctly.

Meanwhile, Scott addressed the pack.

“We need a plan. It can’t be like last time. We need to be prepared to take them on and get rid of them.” Stiles wondered sometimes, how Scott could behave like an over-excited puppy one minute and shift into True-Alpha–mode the next.

“Does that mean the no-killing-policy is off the table?” Erica asked, yellow eyes glowing.  

“Yes.” Scott sighed “I want them gone. I don’t care if we get them to leave or kill them but this has gone on long enough and they let innocent people be killed. I won’t stand for that.”

Stiles cheered inwardly.

That was one hell of a speech.

“Ideas?” Surprisingly enough, Boyd and Peter simultaneously raised their hands and then proceeded to elaborate on their ideas, which were frighteningly similar.

“I say, let’s give them what they want. Lure them out of hiding.” Boyd started.

“The demon is key. We need it to attack, to think it has a shot at eliminating the pack so that the hunters show up.” Peter continued.

“But it won’t attack if we all go in together. It’s not that stupid. It could have done that the last two times already. But it didn’t.” Stiles agreed with Isaac on that.

“If I may?” Chris stood up from where he had been sitting and walked towards the large living room table.

“If you look at the information we have, it clearly says that it bites the victim to consume their life-force. I think that this means, it can only do this to one person at a time.”

“So it fought us to see which one is the weakest target? That it can take us out one at a time?” Stiles concluded. That made so much sense. He had been wondering why it had looked so amused while fighting such a large pack. Every other monster had been at least intimidated.

“That’s it!” Peter exclaimed suddenly, making Scott jump beside him at the sudden loud volume.

“What if we single one of us out?” A growl from Derek had him step back.

“Hear me out before you get your fangs in a twist.” The growling stopped. Or at least, it simmered down.

“If we send one of us in, make it think the pack is no longer united, it will attack.” The gleam in Peter’s eyes should have scared Stiles but instead, it made him tremble with excitement.

“Yes! Yes, that’s it. We need the demon to come to us, not the other way around. We need to meet it on our territory, on our terms. So that we are prepared.”

“But what about the hunters? How do we get rid of them?”

And it was so simple.

So terribly simple.

And it frightened him.

Because the one scenario where this would work– only one– was the one Stiles wanted to avoid at all costs.

“I have an idea.” Stiles said tentatively. There was no way around it. It had to be done. “And you won’t like it.”

“Continue.” Derek said from his seat in the corner.

“One of us has to go in alone, you agree?” A collective nod. He steeled himself. “The hunters told me, they wanted Derek feral. So what if we make them think that two Alphas in one pack don’t work? That Derek had a falling out with Scott and that he left the pack? That he is all alone?”

He hated the idea but it was their best shot. Derek wouldn’t be alone, he would make sure of that with every spell and every bit of magic he had. The Alpha looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time again. And that he didn’t like what he was seeing.

“You want me to go in alone?” He sounded hurt. And Stiles could barely take it.

“No- I don’t _want_ you to go in alone. But I don’t see any other way. And I want them gone. We need them gone. And I think that they want you out of all of us the most. They won’t be able to resist.”

The rest of the pack stared at him, stunned into silence. Then Cora spoke up.

“What about we let you guys talk that one out.” She was already on the way to the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles knew from the moment he had mentioned it that Derek would not understand why he was suddenly ready to let him sacrifice himself, when that had been one of their arguments all throughout the time they had known each other. But Stiles was prepared to list all of his reasons and give an explanation that would hopefully clear that look off Derek’s face.

“Just to get that out of the way: I don’t **_want_** you to go in alone. Hell, if it weren’t for the pack, I wouldn’t want you to go in at all.” Stiles clarified and watched Derek’s eyebrows rise up to his hairline.

“Then why suggest it?”

“Because you are the one they want. But I don’t think they want the demon to kill you. I think they just want it to bring you to them-“

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Ah, he had missed the biting sarcasm. No one delivered it the way Derek did.

“Yes. It is. Because if we send anyone else in, they will get killed. We won’t be fast enough to stop the demon if it is set out to kill them. But- if we lure it to you, make it think it has you all alone, it will bring you to the hunters. And we will be there. Derek, I promise, we will be there.” His heart didn’t skip. Not once.

“You think, they want me alive to kill me themselves…” Derek mused.

“Yes, that’s what I think. Because the demon had you that night. It could have killed you easily. But it didn’t. And yeah, it went for Kira but didn’t have any reservations killing Scott in the process. So something about you is different. Maybe they think that your territory is important?”

At this point, Stiles was just throwing around ideas.

“No.” Derek suddenly said. “No, that’s not what they want.” Something about his sudden change in demeanour made the hairs on Stiles’ arms rise.

“What if they want me because I can shift?” Derek said gravely while about a hundred lighting bulbs lit up in Stiles’ head. He continued were Derek had left the idea.

“They don’t want you dead. They want to know how the shift works. You’re a Hale. Talia could shift too. They want to know if it’s hereditary. That’s why they wanted you feral, so that you’d go into the full-shift, so that you wouldn’t be able to shift back.”

“Why? What’s it to them?”

“I think they want to know if it’s something every wolf can do, you know? If you’re an exception or if that’s something that can be triggered. Because if it’s just you, it won’t matter to them. They won’t encounter it again. But if not- if not, then they need to know how to stop the trigger to avoid having to hunt real wolves. Because you’re so much stronger in your full-shift than in your Beta-shift.”

“But wouldn’t that make Scott a target too? A True Alpha isn’t that common either…” Derek mused.

“No- no because that’s already in the human genes, it’s not wolf-specific.”

“Listen,” Stiles continued “I wouldn’t ask it of you if I even thought for one second that I was wrong. I would never let you walk in there-“

“I know that.” Derek cut him off.

“Do you?” He needed an answer. Because this looked just like any other time Derek thought self-sacrificing was an option and that they wouldn’t care if he lived afterwards.

“I-“

“Derek- I need you to be honest with me here.”

“I just don’t…” He trailed off, ruffled his hair. “You were always the one yelling at me not to go in alone. And now you suddenly want me to.” Derek was right. The comment hit its mark.

“I know.” He needed to make Derek understand “I know that. And believe me when I say that I don’t want you to do it this time around either. I really don’t.” Derek didn’t look at him, so Stiles grabbed his hand and put it on his chest. Derek needed to understand, he needed to hear it.

“Listen to my heart-beat, Derek.” The wolf nodded. _“I don’t want you to have to go in alone.”_ He repeated with all the determination he could muster.

“Then why- I just- I don’t mind going in if it saves my pack but why suddenly-“

“Because you are the only option.” Stiles snapped. “It’s you they want and I hate it. But you are the only one I trust to do it and not fuck it up. You are the only one they want alive. You are the only one it won’t kill on sight.”

He paused, for a moment unsure as to how much he wanted to reveal.

“I trust you, Derek. And I trust that you won’t get yourself killed.”

“Stiles-“

“I want them safe, you know? And I wish that there was another way- literally any other way- that doesn’t involve you being even remotely close to that thing- but there isn’t. And I need you to trust me that I won’t let that demon kill you. There is spells I’ve tried with Deaton that can track your position wherever you are. There is wards I can put on you. Just-“

“Stop.” Derek said. Stiles was afraid that he had gone too far but Derek simply shook his head, gestured for him to hear him out.

“It’s not that.” He paused, his eyebrows doing that complicated thing again. “I just wanted to know why you suddenly didn’t care. I thought that maybe after our fight…” Derek’s cheeks tinged red, he looked away.

“Did you really think that? That I don’t care what happens to you?” Stiles asked, feeling so much hurt it made him ache. Not for himself but for Derek. He didn’t wait for the obvious answer.

“Derek. I- I care so much about you. Not just if you live or die but for you as a person. I want you to be happy and I want you to be safe.” He confessed, his heart beating fast.

“So it’s not… you didn’t-“ Once again, Derek paused wide eyed. Silence spread between them. “give up on me?” The words were so quiet Stiles almost didn’t catch them. Almost. But he had. And he crossed the distance between them with two large steps and pulled Derek into an embrace that knocked the breath out of his lungs.

“I would never give up on you…” Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear, felt the wolf stiffen at the words but not pull away. Instead, his embrace got tighter.

“Do you trust me not to let you get killed?” It was a question that desperately needed an answer.

“Yes.” He said it, like it was so simple. And Stiles realised then that sometimes, it really was.

 

* * *

 

When the rest of the pack returned to the house with more dinner than should be possible to digest for anyone– even werewolves– Derek and Stiles had let go of each other and were now discussing strategy. Never once did Stiles mentioned what he had discussed with Chris hours prior, nor was his conversation with Lydia talked about. The banshee provided them with information on the whereabouts of the hunters, or at least of their whereabouts in the moments of the fight.

She did, however, omit the reason for her clinging to Stiles whenever she could.

Scott leaned over the dinner table, discussing logistics with Chris. Allison sharpened the one of the stakes she had carved. It looked kind of badass, Stiles had to admit. Isaac stared at her with a dopey expression on his face. Boyd and Erica were cuddled up together on the couch. Derek motioned Stiles over.

“That’s the radius in which the victims were killed.” He motioned to the map.

“So maybe- I don’t know…” Stiles took a moment to thoroughly study the options, then decided to send Derek to the edge of the preserve. That way he would still be on Hale-territory.

“In two days? You think that gives us enough time?” Chris asked, already checking his phone for a large supply of guns, he wanted to arm the pack with. They may not work on a demon but they sure as hell would on the hunters. Derek was still not all too fond of anything closely related to fire or machinery but Scott vetoed, which ended the discussion rather quickly.

“What about your magic? Did Deaton already call?” Peter chimed in, once the logistics were finally settled.

“He didn’t call but I worked on a few protection spells, something to track Derek with and some healing salves.” Stiles shot over his shoulder while still being concentrated on the task before him.

“Still, if he doesn’t call until tomorrow, you should head over.” And for once, Stiles didn’t have anything to argue about with Peter’s suggestion.

“The fight- when should we stage it?” Scott asked. “To be sure they believe it? I mean, if you wanna go in in two days, we don’t have much time.”

“Scott is right.” Stiles’ lips twitched, however grim the situation was, because Derek sounded really put out at having to say that sentence out loud.

“Let’s do it tonight, after dinner.” Derek suggested. Stiles saw the strain clearly on his features but only because he was already looking for them.

“We need to have the plan ready before that. I don’t want you going in without knowing it.” He insisted and Derek seemed to agree.

“I don’t need to be involved in the magic stuff,” the Alpha mumbled. It made Stiles turn.

“What do you mean?”

“If you say, you have it prepared then you have it prepared. I don’t need you to give me a run down on something I don’t understand anyways. I believe you, when you say you’ve got it.”

For a second, the world halted in its pace. Never, in a million years had Stiles thought, he would hear these words out of Derek’s mouth. Yet here they were.

“I’ve got it.” Stiles reassured. He couldn’t help but stare at Derek.

“Good.” The wolf in question simply refocused on rearranging the stakes on the shelf.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day was packed with preparation. Deaton watched Stiles perform spell after spell, while putting together salves and stashing new emergency kits. It didn’t exactly feel reassuring to see the vet so obviously worrying but hey, that’s what they did every other week anyway. Allison and Isaac had taken the day to themselves to train, Scott and Kira were cuddled up somewhere and Erica and Boyd were on a supply run.

Apart from the twins and their significant others that left the Hales unattended.

And Stiles was about to remedy that. He crossed the threshold and was immediately hauled in by the collar by an angry looking Peter.

“Do something.” Was the only thing he was told before both Cora and Peter walked out. He proceeded with caution and found Derek sulking in the kitchen.

“Hey, Sourwolf…” After taking one step into the room, Derek finally looked up. The expression on his face was so different from his usual brooding that Stiles instinctively stopped. Something was odd.

“I don’t like fighting.” Derek admitted softly before Stiles could even ask what was wrong.

“I have been fighting for so long, I don’t want to do it anymore.” It nearly broke Stiles’ heart in half. Of course, Derek didn’t like it. Who would with his backstory?

“I get that, Derek.” He offered, not sure what else there was to say.

“I know. It’s just-“ He motioned around them with his hands “Why does it always have to be our pack? Just for once, I want to have a week where nobody wants to kill us- is that really too much to ask?” The utter helplessness, the defeat in his tone, it made Stiles ache all over.

“It’s not. But you know it doesn’t work that way…” He said, even though, he had caught himself wishing for that same thing.

“It’s not fair…” And he sounded so much like the petulant little child he never got to be that Stiles felt himself smile sadly.

“No, it’s not. But it is what it is. And we’ll keep doing what we’re doing and we’ll fight whoever comes into our town to hurt us.” Stiles reached out to Derek, his hand on the wolf’s tense shoulder. The contact made both of them relax.

“I want this to end well. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Derek said, determination so clear in his every move.

“I can’t promise you that.” Stiles admitted. Because he really couldn’t. Chances were that many of them would get hurt. But preferably not in the life-threatening way.

“Can you promise me to be careful, then?” Derek requested, eyes on the ground and shoulders hunched. Stiles took a moment to answer it as truthfully as he could.

“I promise, I’ll try.” He settled on. Lydia’s vision, his conversation with Chris on the forefront of his mind.

“Thank you.” The words sounded so sincere, it made Stiles want to hug Derek and never leave his side. That was, unfortunately, not the plan.

“Do you-“ Derek suddenly said, still not making eye-contact.

“Do I what?”

“Do you want to grab dinner with me? I’m in the mood for eating out.” Stiles grinned, glad that the emotional part of the conversation was over.

Only when he stepped into his shoes, did it occur to him that this situation was unusual. He wanted to eat dinner with Derek, he really did but that felt a little too close to “last night on earth” for him to relax. So, Stiles did what he always did, which was stalling until he figured out what was going on in Derek’s head.

“Hey, do you wanna go over the plan again? Just- like once more? I mean- I know we’ve talked about it and all but I’d feel more comfortable if we like uh” he flailed around “talked about it again? Just so we’re sure everything’s covered? There won’t be any time tomorrow…”

Derek huffed around a smile- or what Stiles thought was one- and sat back down to listen to Stiles ramble on about things he had already committed to memory twice before. When Stiles was finished, still rapidly thinking about that dinner and what it might or might not entail, he hadn’t noticed Derek move.

“Alright.” Derek said, already on the way to the door.

“Alright? That’s it? Alright?” Stiles grasped for straws here. He wasn’t ready. Shit!

“Yes, alright. The plan is good.” Derek completely disregarded his heart-beat sky-rocketing and opened the door.

“But- I don’t get it, you– you usually don’t…” Derek scratched his head. Stiles realised with a start that he was uncomfortable too.

“Your plan will work. I trust you.” Derek offered as way of explanation. As if it was really that simple. Which it was really not.

Almost as an afterthought, he added “And I’m starving, so let’s go.”

Yep, that was a smirk.

On Derek Hale’s lips.

Stiles was about to die.

Not in the woods like he thought, but in a restaurant, presumably by collapsing face-first into his steak or something equally embarrassing.

“You coming?” The wolf called over his shoulder. Stiles gaped for a while but realised that Derek would leave without him if he didn’t get a move on. He shook himself and followed quickly.

 

* * *

 

 

The restaurant was not only nice, it was hella expensive too. Derek had clarified upon entering that Stiles needn’t worry and had proceeded to lead Stiles to a nicely decorated table.

The steak was amazing, the fries to die for and the wine Derek had ordered made Stiles more than a little tipsy. He had a vague thought of not drinking too much on the night before the showdown but it quickly vanished when he saw Derek’s eyes light up at him obviously enjoying his choice of beverage. The wolf seemed to like his own food apart from the mushrooms on it.

Stiles eventually took pity on him, when Derek tried to pick them off the top of his steak and failed spectacularly.

“Here- let me…” He made quick work of the offending dish and put them on his plate instead, not deciding yet if he was going to eat them or not. Derek stared at him somewhat peculiarly and Stiles felt his cheeks heat.

Surprisingly, the conversations flowed easily between the two, leading into discussions about movies and why Derek still hadn’t seen the majority of them. The only time, it got awkward was when Derek insisted on driving him home and Stiles hear t nearly jumped out of his chest at the realisation that– considering all he knew about dates– this could have very well been one. Derek simply side eyed him curiously but thankfully didn’t comment.

The Camaro parked in front of his house and Derek opened his door for him to help him out. Stiles felt the contact of his hand burn against his skin and quickly pulled back. He reminded himself sternly that this was not the right time to complicate matters. When they reached the door, Derek hesitated for a second before pulling Stiles into an embrace that felt so much more meaningful than it should.

“Thank you for tonight.” Derek whispered into his hair. Stiles was about to tell him that there was nothing to thank him for, that Derek should be thanked for the evening, when the Alpha continued talking.

“I really whished you wouldn’t have to go in tomorrow.” Before Stiles could be offended by it, Derek said “But I know you can handle it. I trust you.”

That was twice he had admitted that today and Stiles couldn’t name a moment he had felt better. There was some fluttering in his belly that he refused to call butterflies.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was a Goodbye and Stiles needed a moment to recognise it as one. Before the wolf drove away, Stiles yelled after him.

“Derek!” He froze in the process of opening the car-door.

“Please- be careful!” It was all he could say without sounding suspicious.

Derek’s smile reached his eyes this time and he waved at Stiles before entering the car.

 

* * *

 

 

“Shut your mouth!” Scott’s growl echoed through the entirety of the parking lot.

“I am so sick of you always butting in-“ Derek rolled his eyes, letting red seep in.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re not doing the exact same thing!” he bit back, saw Scott’s eye twitch and continued. “You’ve been an Alpha for a hot minute and you think you know everything when you have no clue. Seriously, even Peter was better at this than you are!”

Low blow, Stiles thought to himself.

“And you’re so great, Derek! You nearly got all of your Betas killed! You slept with the darach when everyone told you not to trust her! You tried to burn Chris!” Scott stared at Derek. “And this is no different! All you do is bitch about thing without contributing. We get it, you’re an Alpha but you took it from your uncle. Who does that?”

He took a breath, continued yelling at Derek who looked more hurt by the minute. Erica and Boyd had previously been standing by his side but were now slowly inching closer towards Scott.

“You don’t care about anyone but you! You don’t give a damn about the pack! And your decisions prove it! You are the one responsible for burning down your family! You just had to trust that bitch when you knew she was a hunter! And here you are again! Making stupid decisions and sending your pack in to fight for you!” Stiles flinched at the harshness in Scott’s tone.

“You really think that, McCall?” Derek bit back. But Stiles saw, the words had hit their mark.

“I’m not the only one!” With that, the pack assembled around Scott, leaving Derek alone on the opposite site. Only Stiles remained rooted beside him.

“What about you?” Derek asked, sounding angry.

“I don’t know-“

“Yeah well, it’s not like I care about you anyways. Might as well run over to him!” Derek snapped at him. To hear him say it felt like a shot to the heart.

While Stiles made his way over, Erica said: “Two Alphas just don’t work in a pack. Sorry Derek, but Scott is better for us!”

Derek snarled at her, showing fangs which resulted in Scott stepping in between them.

“Leave!” Scott ordered, authority in his voice.

“I don't care anyways-“ Derek said, then turned around.

Before Stiles could blink twice, the wolf had disappeared.

 

* * *

 

 

In the Jeep, he turned to Scott.

“Think they bought it?” Scott grinned from ear to ear.

“’Course they bought it, Derek was brilliant.” And Stiles couldn’t argue with that. He would have absolutely believed Derek had fallen for it if not for the glint in Derek’s eyes, the heat burning in them when he had told Stiles he didn’t care about him. He didn’t need a lie-detector to see that lie for what it was.

“Dude, when he said that part about you, his heart was leaping out of his chest.” Isaac chimed in, a smile on his face.

“Yeah?” Stiles couldn’t help feeling giddy even though they were headed into a fight.

“Yeah. It’s a good thing that demon doesn’t do chemo-signals or we would have been dead already. He is such a bad liar it’s amazing you ever fell for that I-don’t-care-about-you-bullshit.”

Stiles had to admit, now that he had seen it, there was no way to un-see it. The way Derek had stared at him was hard to miss.

“You still have him, right?” Kira asked, worry suddenly present in the car. Stiles nodded, concentrating on the soft pulse that was Derek’s essence, they were tracking.

“He’s okay, a little on edge, I think.” And he could picture it vividly. Derek walking alone in the night, looking around without being too obvious, prepared for the attack that was sure to come.

And then it did.

Stiles felt a sudden blip in his connection to the wolf and nearly ripped Scott’s arm out.

“Dude!”

“It’s Derek. The demon must have got the jump on him, I think he’s hurt.”

 

* * *

 

_The fight had gone over brilliantly._

_Scott was one hell of an actor and Derek had no problem admitting it._

_He had felt so happy, when Scott’s heart-beat along with Erica’s and especially Stiles’ went through the roof whenever they talked to him. Scott had meticulously accused him of everything he had held himself accountable for and to see that neither of them truly thought him responsible or a bad Alpha made his steps that much lighter._

_A sudden sound to his left made him whip around. He scanned the bushed but nothing moved. Another sound, this time to his right. Once again, when he looked, there was nobody there._

_Then he felt it._

_Breath on his neck, the stench of something dead and foul in his nose. He turned slowly. The thing looked even uglier up close. Derek didn’t have time to even attempt an attack when he felt himself fall unconscious._

_Somewhere in his brain, the pain of falling to the ground registered._

_He wasn’t worried._

_Stiles was tracking him._

 

* * *

 

 

“Drive faster!” Stiles yelled, panicking without aware why. All he knew was that he needed to get to Derek asap. Scott urged the car on, cutting corners and running over red lights. Lydia’s Sedane screeched to a halt in front of them, Cora’s mustang was close by. They jumped out. Ethan was already in his Beta-shift when they heard the howl. Scott’s eyes bled red in reaction.

“Come on!” Jackson bellowed. The pack fell into motion.

They reached the clearing Lydia had seen in her vision. There were a lot of hunters, too many to count quickly. The demon was crouched in front of a tree. And then Stiles saw it. Derek was bound to the tree trunk, eyes closed and blood seeping from three wounds in his chests were arrows stuck out of him. Before a pained sound escaped Stiles’ mouth, a hand closed around it and he whipped around to find Allison pressed against him.

She gestured for him to be quiet, then let go. He needed to breathe. Derek was hurt but not gravely. He could still feel the wolf’s essence pulse at the string connecting him to the Alpha, created by his spell. And he had never been more thankful for that than now. Not to know if Derek was alright was every one of Stiles’ worst nightmares combined. Boyd made a hand signal to tell them which attack he thought would be most efficient.

Stiles agreed, signed a “Yes” back and saw the wolves disappear in the dark. Lydia stayed with him, so did Erica and Jackson.

They caught a glimpse of Isaac’s curls between the bushes but the hunters didn’t. Stiles thought everything was going well when the two wolves beside him flinched. There was no time to ask what was going on when a shot rang through the air and Stiles saw Derek arch in his bounds. His essence felt weakened.

All rational thought flew out of the window. Stiles barged into the clearing, not caring if the others were behind him or not.

He was deaf to the sneers of the hunters, recalling the first time they met. There was only one thing he was focussed on and that was Derek. The wolf stared at him through hooded eyes, so much pain in his expression, it made Stiles want to hurl.

Behind him, the fight erupted. The wolves attacked from all sides, dodging bullets, clawing at everything in their way. Stiles kept running towards the bound wolf. The demon bared its teeth at him, two hunters obscured his sight. He felt the magic flare up inside him, directed it at the humans in his way and felt sick with triumph when they fell. Peter was beside him and shoved him out of the way when the demon came close to attack him.

He paid the price when its claws hit him instead and he went down. Stiles kept going, only two steps away from Derek who fidgeted in his bonds.

“Stiles! I can’t get them off!” He sounded furious and frightened at the same time. Stiles ran faster, reached Derek and immediately cut off the ropes holding him.

Disgusted, he realised they were laced with wolfsbane. The Alpha ripped out the arrows but didn’t get to the bullet, which had thankfully been a normal one.

Stiles saw the others fight around him. It looked like they were winning.

Cora approached the demon from behind it while Erica and Boyd were distracting it. The stake found its place in the demon’s heart. Everything stopped.

The hunter stared, the pack was frozen.

Nothing happened.

The demon turned slowly then smirked. It looked horrifying on its face, half jackal half human or somewhere in between. There was so much madness, so much evil in its eyes. It took a step towards Cora. Derek fell into motion. The demon hit Cora hard in the face. She flew through the air- hit the tree behind her with a sickening crack.

Scott and Derek howled simultaneously, both feeling her pain and charged as one. Derek was faster. The hunters yelled something at the demon but it seemed beyond caring. Derek jumped, claws at the ready.

A sound, so hollow, so pained echoed through the clearing. Stiles heart stopped for a beat. Then he saw claws break through Derek’s back. The wolf fell over, blood spilling over his hands, out of his back. He turned to Stiles, blank fear in his eyes.

The world stopped moving.

And when it started to turn again, Stiles felt every bit of magic at his disposal burn its way onto his skin. His eyes flared up in blinding white. He concentrated with all he had on Derek and Derek alone, saw blood trickle out of his mouth and did the only thing he could. He let go. The magic hit the Alpha with such force that he was flattened against the ground. Stiles didn’t have time to see if it worked. He felt around for Derek’s essence and couldn’t find it.

He saw Cora lie unconsciously against the tree. Chris helped Allison up from the ground, both bleeding from several wounds. Lydia was held up by Aiden and Aiden only, the wolf himself shaking with exhaustion. Jackson was crawling towards an unconscious Ethan, Boyd held onto Erica with what looked like his last strength. Peter was still clutching his chest, a hunter had Isaac in his grip. Scott was held back by a trembling Kira, both looking worse for wear.

And then Stiles realised that his moment had come. He turned towards the hunter at the far back of the clearing, stared him right in the eye. And then he broke into a run. The hunter didn’t have time to defend himself, too surprised by Stiles’ sudden change of focus. He heard the hunter cry out when Stiles’ own stake punctured his chest. Stiles ripped the pendant from his neck, clutched it tightly in his hand.

Lydia wailed behind him, screamed at him to stop but he was beyond caring.

Derek still lay motionless on the ground.

The demon smirking with its ugly face.

He stared at his pack, at his Alpha and best friend and then at Derek. He had decided days ago. And now his time had come. With steady hands, he placed the pendant on a stone before him, watched the demon snarl at him as if it knew that its end was near.

He turned to Scott.

“Tell him it wasn’t his fault.” His best friend nodded, seemingly rooted to the spot. No one moved, no one stopped him. Not one hunter moved towards him. He grabbed the knife hidden in his pocket. Once more, he looked at everyone around him, everyone that had slowly found a place in his heart.

A smile graced his lips.

He was doing the right thing.

They would take care of the hunters.

They would be safe.

If only he could get rid of the demon.

And he would.

He just needed one more moment.

“Tell him for me…” he asked of whoever might hear.

The clearing was oddly quiet. He eyed the knife, took one last glance at the motionless figure on the ground. Then he rammed the knife into his chest. He felt the pain, searing hot like only fire should be. It had been sufficient, he was sure of it, so he pulled the knife out again. The first droplets of blood spilled over his fingers where he clutched his chest tightly.

They hit the pendant right where they should. A sound, like hell personified had risen echoed through the air. With satisfaction, Stiles saw the demon catch fire, coming from nowhere. It looked furious, took a menacing step towards him. One of the hunters yelled in anger to stop it. Stiles knew that there would be no stopping it.

The demon bared its teeth, charged...

And burst into flames.

Stiles felt himself weaken. His life-force was leaving him.

He couldn’t breathe.

There was no pain anymore.

He fell over.

He barely registered that the sigil on the pendant was broken.

All that counted was that the demon was gone.

Darkness came fast.

His eyes fluttered close.

He felt content. 

He had done his part.

_His pack was safe._

 

* * *

 

 

_Derek shot up from the ground, touching his back for any trace of claws that wasn’t there. He whipped around, ready to face the demon again. In his haste, he didn’t realise, the fighting was over, that the demon was gone and only three hunters remained that slowly backed up towards their car. He frantically looked for Stiles, remembered where he had last seen him._

_And then his world stopped._

**_No!_ **

_No. No. No. No. No._

_This wasn’t happening._

_He refused to believe this was happening._

_Stiles’ eyes fluttered close. His breathing slowed. And then, there was the sound Derek feared most for in the entire world._

_Stiles’ heart stopped._

_Derek threw himself at the hunter closest to the lifeless body, not caring that he was armed and firing shots at him. He ripped the gun out of his hands, growling when the hunter tried to defend himself. It took him less than a second to snap his neck, moving to the woman beside him. She was harder to take down but he didn’t care. His vision shifted from red to normal and back again._

_Someone yelled his name but he didn’t listen._

_Stiles was dead._

_He had let Stiles die._

_He howled loudly, the pain in his chest all-consuming. Tears streamed down his face._

_He was brought to his knees when the last hunter fell, firing a shot at him that hit its mark. The arrow buried itself deeply in his chest, but there was no pain. It was as if Stiles’ magic still ran through him._

_Derek’s eyes fluttered. He didn’t fight to keep them open._

_Stiles was dead._

**_Stiles_ **

 

* * *

 

 

The thing he was laying on, was cold underneath his back. He wanted to move away but found himself unable to. Something registered in his brain that felt important. He wanted to explore it, when a tug in his belly made him take a sudden breath. Light blinded him.

He sat up.

 **“FUCK!”** Someone exclaimed loudly. He winced at the volume.

“Get away from him! NOW!” The voices sounded familiar. He tried to look but was still too disoriented. There was too much going on to focus.

“Stiles? Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?” Deaton? What was Deaton doing here? Stiles tried to move his head and found it working perfectly.

“Don’t sit up.” Deaton pushed him back down gently.

“Someone dim the lights!” Lydia screeched. Stiles had no clue what was going on.

They shouldn’t be here.

Hell, **_he_** shouldn’t be here.

“You gave us quite a shock.” Deaton continued to talk while stitching- stitching?- the wound in Stiles’ chest. Before he could say anything to that, a familiar voice to his right spoke up.

“Where am I?”

_Derek_

That was Derek’s voice.

Derek was alive.

“Stiles, calm down!” Deaton said, a tone of urgency apparent in his voice.

“Stiles?” Derek asked. “Where is Stiles?” A tumult erupted and then there was a face directly above his own, blocking the light.

“Stiles!” He was pulled into a crushing embrace.

Meanwhile, his thought were running wild in his head. He had seen Derek die and yet here he was. For a short moment, Stiles wasn’t even all too sure if he himself was alive.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare do this again!” Derek yelled at him. Well, looked like he was alive after all. No way heaven-Derek would yell at him like that. No, there would be more kissing and less talking.

“Alright. Everyone out.” Deaton suddenly ordered. Huh. Apparently he had said that out loud.

“Yes, you have! But don’t think for a minute there is going to be any kissing going on if you don’t promise me to never do that again! I mean that, Stiles!” Something in Derek’s voice made him pause. He sounded hurt, scared even. And Stiles really didn’t like it.

“It seems, Mr. Stilinski, that your sacrifice worked.” Deaton cut in before Stiles could answer.

“But why?” He didn’t get it. The page had clearly said: life-force willingly sacrificed.

“Because, Mr. Stilinski, you were ready to sacrifice yourself for your pack.” Derek growled threateningly from the corner he had been banned to, while Deaton kept nursing Stiles’ wounds.

“It didn’t say, you needed to die, simply that you needed to be ready to, that the sacrifice needed to be pure. And you were ready. To save your pack, you were prepared to give your life.” Deaton explained, apologising when Stiles winced at a harsh pull of the cord.

“I will never let you talk to Chris alone, do you hear me? I know he was in on it- Lydia too.” Derek was furious, that much was clear.

“And what about you, hu? You got yourself killed before that.” Stiles accused, not fully up to arguing but he couldn’t stop seeing Derek’s body lie on the ground.

“I didn’t die.” Derek scoffed. Deaton tutted and shook his head.

“On the contrary. I can’t prove it but I’m quite sure, you did indeed die, Derek.” That made both of them pause.

“It is similar to what I taught you when Peter was here. You almost didn’t manage to restart his heart then, without weakening yourself considerably. But today, you managed to do so without any strain whatsoever.” Stiles considered him for a moment.

“But why today?” He asked, still trying to wrap his head around the whole situation.

“He was your sole focus, was he not? Everything you wanted, everything that counted, was Derek.” Deaton said with a smile.

“Neither of you is in mortal danger right now. I will lock the door behind me.” The vet announced.

They stared at each other. Derek broke the silence first.

“Is that true?” Stiles nodded. It was the only movement he was capable of right now.

“Stiles-“

“I couldn’t let you die. Not you. And you were just laying there- there wasn’t- your essence it wasn’t there anymore- and I flipped.” Stiles slung his arms around himself, careful not to touch his chest.

“I knew you would be mad but I had to try…”

“Why?” How could he ask that? Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because I can’t live without you, Derek.” Stiles admitted. Derek stared at him as if he wasn’t sure this was real. Stiles could relate to that.

“Me too.” The wolf said. And Stiles’ brain went offline for a minute. When it was back online, Stiles felt tears on his cheeks and hastily wiped them away.

“When I saw you there- on the ground- I lost it. There was nothing in my head anymore. It was completely empty. Because your heart wasn’t beating, you weren’t breathing. And when they shot me, I didn’t feel it. There was just nothing. Because you weren’t there anymore.” Derek whispered. He brought a trembling hand up to his hair as if to ruffle it but aborted the movement.

“I just- Stiles- what you did- I get it, okay? But I can’t have you run in there and sacrifice yourself like that. It isn’t right. Not even as our emissary.” Derek said. When the word emissary and our registered, a grin spread on Stiles’ face.

“So I am your emissary?” His good mood didn’t last long

“Not if you don’t stop sacrificing yourself. I’m serious, Stiles. I can’t-“ he stopped, breathed in shakily “I can’t go through this again.” Derek pleaded with him, hurt so evident on his features.

“There was no other way.” Stiles whispered. He understood what Derek was saying, he really did. Nonetheless, he was right. And Derek knew that too.

“I get what you’re saying- believe me, I do. But you have to understand that I will do anything to save my pack. Anything. And you can’t stop me from that. I won’t let you.” Derek took a step back as if Stiles had slapped him. He looked ready to argue.

And then a sudden change came over him and he said: “I just want you safe.”

“That’s not- Derek, it doesn’t work that way. You can’t keep me out of this. I’m already in it. Don’t you get that?” Stiles hated that they were arguing again but he knew this needed to be said before either of them could make a decision regarding what Stiles hoped was a relationship.

“Listen. I know what I did was- that it hurt you. I know- I saw you there. I- when they had you, I couldn’t function. Scott had to physically push me away so that I wouldn’t hurt you while cutting the cuffs. And in the end, Isaac had to come in and do it for me because I couldn’t control myself. Their plan nearly worked. I almost went feral, when I saw what they had done to you. And when you told me, you wanted to train, when all that shit happened, I kept thinking that if I could keep you out of it, make you stay away, then you’d be safe.”

“I get that Derek! I do… But it doesn’t work that way! You can’t keep making decisions for me!”

“Then let me work on it! Let me try to do better.” Derek barked, sounding desperate.

“How? If you still feel that way, nothing will change.” The crux of the matter stood so clearly between them. And Stiles was ready to lose hope, when Derek suddenly interrupted him:

“No. No– hear me out– I want you to be safe, I do. That will never change. But I got it wrong. That day in the woods. Do you remember– what I said to you?” Stiles nodded, the words still stuck inside his head since that day.

Derek continued without pause: “I got it wrong.”

Stiles stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

“When I told you that you’re all I’ve got, that I’m all you need. I was so wrong. And it took a lot to understand that.” He moved forward, took Stiles’ hand to squeeze it gently.

“Because, Stiles. It’s the other way around. It’s always been the other way around: I’m all you’ve got and you– you are all I need.” Stiles saw how much it cost Derek to admit to that.

“You only say that because I’m a badass now.” Stiles quipped, desperate to lighten the mood after Derek’s words. He didn’t know what else to do. This was too far outside of his comfort zone that he didn't know how to handle it without going back to his coping mechanisms.  

“No. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s not your spark that makes you special to me. It’s your determination, your faith, your loyalty. It’s all the things that made me trust you, when you were a stupid teenager with a buzz-cut, trespassing on my territory. It’s what made me trust you when I hadn’t trusted anyone for such a long time that I had nearly forgotten what it felt like. It was you. All of that was you. And that never changed. I only needed to realise that that is worth so much more when it counts– more than my muscle and Alpha power combined.”

His eyes were radiating so much honesty that Stiles was caught in them. He wanted to never look away.

“The pack was right. I– you mean so much to me, it scares me sometimes. Because when you’re concerned, I lose control. But I promise– I promise you, Stiles– I will work on that. Because you deserve that. And I want to give that to you.”

He heard Derek speak but it was Cora’s words that echoed in his head.

Those same words, the same sentiment, shared by her brother and it was all for him.

He hadn’t believed it, when she had promised her that Derek was right for him, good even and that Stiles deserved something so good, it would make him burn with happiness.

He knew, what she had meant by it.

_He knew now._

Derek never got to finish the sentence.

Because Stiles had moved forward and had pressed his lips to Derek’s so hard, the wolf stumbled back with the force of it.

The wolf kissed back for a moment, then moved away. There was another stab of pain to Stiles' heart that didn't have anything to do with the wound on his chest. Derek saw him flinch and hurried to reassure him. 

"No- that's not- I just- you're it for me, Stiles. I need you to know that." He placed a soft kiss on Stiles' lips. 

"You have always been it for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be an Epilogue but I still hope at least some of you will read it. But even if you don't, thank you so much for reading.
> 
> And please, let me know your thoughts in the comments.


	6. Epilogue

_“I didn’t want to fall in love- not at all- but at some point, you smiled at me… and holy shit, I blew it!”_

 

 

Even a week after the incident, the pack was still dealing with the consequences of the fight.

Cora had been out cold for thirty minutes and was now recovering from flashbacks to her broken back. Lydia had been angry with Stiles for the better part of the week, refusing to even talk to him and instead sending Aiden to deliver her requests, whenever she needed information.

Meanwhile, Derek didn’t even so much as let Stiles leave the couch without him watching his every move. And Stiles was surprisingly alright with that. After seeing Derek fall over that night, he experienced separation issues as well.

The ceremony to make Stiles’ status of emissary official was scheduled on a Wednesday of all days. Stiles didn’t know why the date bothered him so much- a Wednesday simply didn’t feel that celebratory to him. When the moment came where his two Alphas– crowding him from the left and the right– offered their bloody palms for him to mix his own into– Stiles nearly laughed out loud in the middle of the clearing.

Deaton raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t comment.

Stiles mind went back to the discussion they had had beforehand:

_“At the rise of the moon, you will mix your essence of life with your Alphas. That will create a bond between the three of you that will transfer to the pack in its whole but will always feel stronger among you three specifically.” Deaton explained._

_Scott and Stiles shared a look, desperately fighting the laugh bubbling in their throats._

_“Mixing essences?” Scott held his stomach while bending over._

_“Essence of life-“ Stiles said at the same time._

_“Blood!” Derek cut in, face red and eyes wide “He means blood.” At the look of mortification on Derek’s face, the other two broke out in hysterics._

_“If we may continue?” Deaton cut in, sounding exasperated as only he could._

_“Really mature…” Derek muttered under his breath, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder in the process._

Standing there, while holding hands with Scott and Derek in the middle of the night on a clearing, surrounded by their pack and Deaton reciting something in Latin, was somewhat surreal to Stiles. He felt Derek’s hand tighten around his and instantly relaxed. His nerves had been getting the best of him lately and to have Derek’s silent stoic support meant a lot to Stiles. It was a beautiful ceremony, apart from this one small mishap. Scott got a little teary-eyed and Derek seemed to be glowing, stealing glances at Stiles every once in a while.

When the bond finally flared up between them, Stiles felt his eyes burn brightly and didn’t need Derek’s gasp to know their colours had changed once again. It didn’t happen frequently, but when his emotions ran high, like they did right now, that unique silver shade overshadowed the usual colour of whiskey and consumed his eyes to the point where they looked extra-terrestrial.

“Beautiful,” Derek had told him when he had seen them for the first time after they kissed.

“Brilliant,” Derek had said after Stiles’ magic whirled through him, healing scrapes and bruises from the demon’s venom.

And Stiles had not been far behind. He had made it a point to compliment Derek whenever he could, seeing him blush and hearing him stutter, while his ears turned red. He knew, Derek hadn’t always been showered with praise and wanted to remedy that. The Alpha deserved every gentle reminder of how much he was worth to the people in his life.

The ceremony ended with Deaton speaking his final verse. When it was over, the pack pulled them into a group hug that threatened to crush Stiles and did, in fact, suffocate Isaac for a second.

 

* * *

 

 

**_One year later_ **

 

 

The shop had a nice façade but it still made Stiles feels squeamishly inside. Instead of walking right in, he fidgeted with his hands and twirled the keys of his car between his fingers.

“Dude! This is awesome. Just go in!” Scott gave him a friendly shove.

“You wanted to do it, so don’t be a chicken now, Stilinski!” Erica helpfully provided from somewhere to his right.

Only Isaac acted mildly supportive when he assured Stiles that the pain won’t make him faint and that he was sure Stiles could handle it. Like the mature adult he was, Stiles chose to ignore the underlying sarcasm of that comment. He took a breath and opened the door. Inside, he was greeted by a pretty girl that assigned him a seat opposite the windows. Erica and Isaac had opted to wait outside but Scott was here with him. His best friend was the only one, he had shown his sketches to.

“You sure you wanna go for two in your first sitting?” The girl asked while a sudden screeching-sound like nails on a chalk-board erupted. Stiles couldn’t suppress the shiver running down his spine. The decision had been tough but Scott and Stiles together had figured that Stiles’ endurance level had to be higher than it used to be and that he would be just fine.

After an affirming nod, Stiles offered the lady his arm to start with.

“This might hurt a bit.” She smiled around the warning. Which was one hell of an understatement, Stiles decided when the needle finally connected with his skin. At that moment, Stiles had an epiphany. There was a difference between pain while being on an adrenaline rush due to a life-death situation and pain voluntarily afflicted by a needle in a tattoo studio. In short, the latter hurt one hell of a bitch more. Stiles lost track of time while squeezing Scott’s hand a bit too tightly. They took some breaks but it seemed to hurt even more than when they had stopped. Well, one thing did stick out positively.

Stiles didn’t faint.

Not much, at least.

Maybe a minute.

But that was worth it, when he stared at himself in the mirror on the wall, for the first time comprehending what that mark meant when displayed in such a visible position. Scott got a little glassy-eyed when his fingers traced the tape covering Stiles’ arm. Isaac cheered for him, when they made their way outside.

“Bold move, Stilinski. Bold move,” Erica reached out to hit him on the arm but immediately stopped the action when she remembered, him to be kind of indisposed. Her words didn’t hold any malice and Stiles recognised them as a compliment rather than an insult.

“Want me to drive you home?” Scott offered. Stiles glanced at him guilty, then he threw the keys at Isaac who caught them easily. He had promised the kid, he could drive if he came out with him.

“You can drive tomorrow, for now, I need you on the backseat with me.” He confessed to Scott when they climbed in. He wanted his best friend beside him.

“Want me to draw some of it?” Scott asked while already reaching for Stiles.

“He’ll like it.” Isaac mumbled on the front seat. Everyone in the car knew what it was Stiles was so worried about that the air vibrated with the tension around them. They hadn’t seen the design but the position of the second tattoo was a dead giveaway.

“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t.” Scott said, working his mojo until nothing but a pleasant buzz remained to a point where he felt slightly light-headed. Even though there was tape covering the black marks on his skin, Scott couldn’t quit staring at it.

“Dude!” Stiles hissed. It was really starting to weird him out.

“Sorry,” Scott relented, but moments later his eyes were drawn to it again “it’s just- you know- wolves get a little territorial.” Stiles grinned at that.

“If that’s your reaction to it, then Derek won’t know what hit him.” He traced the hem of his shirt with his left hand, excitement spiking his blood.

“Oh, just you wait. He’ll lose his head.” Erica turned in the passenger-seat, shooting him a saucy grin that had far too much teeth to be considered PG.

“Let’s hope he does.” Stiles muttered to himself, gaze wandering out of the window and to the edge of the preserve where they were driving along.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek was preparing dinner, like he usually did when Stiles came over.

He loved the smells surrounding him, of pack and home mixed with mouth-watering lasagne. Derek had been cooking for the better part of the evening, wanting everything to be perfect for their anniversary dinner. He had been giddy with nerves the whole day, unable to wrap his head around the idea that they had been together for exactly one year.

Never had he thought, he would be allowed to have this. Mistakes upon mistakes when it came to relationships had finally left their mark on him. Then Stiles had come along. With his wit and smart mouth and sarcastic remarks. And with his loyalty and honesty and bravery.

Derek had fallen faster than he had ever had before.

Watching Stiles die that night had been the final straw, the nail in the coffin if you will.

He had promised to himself then and there to never let Stiles go into battle without telling him, how he felt first. At least then, he could rest comfortably, confident that Stiles knew exactly what he meant to him.

The oven beeped that annoying noise the whole pack complained about whenever they came over and someone- mostly Derek- was cooking. He glared at it, just to make a point, but ultimately decided that there was no way to win a staring contest against an inanimate object. When he opened it, the steam nearly knocked him over with heat.

But it was worth it.

Stiles would love the lasagne.

Derek refused to count minutes until Stiles’ arrival but he did power-walk to the door when he heard Stiles’ footsteps coming closer. The kiss they shared was sweet and full of tenderness. Derek wanted to stretch the moment for all eternity; then, a certain smell registered that had Derek on edge.

Stiles was smelling of blood and… _ink_?

Derek ripped Stiles’ shirt down his neck to expose a barrier of plastic taped to it. He clawed at it immediately, careful not to hurt Stiles in the process.

“What did you do? What happened?” His hackles were far beyond rising.

“Relax, Sourwolf. Nothing happened, I just had to have something done and now it needs healing.” Stiles said, sounding nonchalant and batting at Derek’s hands. There was a second layer of tape on Stiles’ upper arm that Derek noticed, when Stiles took off his jacket. Derek wanted to argue right then, wanted to demand an answer, but Stiles’ scent didn’t smell off otherwise. He wasn’t in pain and he wasn’t lying. It took a lot for Derek to let it go, but after working on their relationship for so long, he had learned to trust Stiles when it came to his own body.

Apart from the minor disturbance upon Stiles' arrival, dinner was brilliant. Stiles hummed around every bite and proceeded to moan obscenely when he hit the parmesan on top. Derek loved how Stiles’ smell turned excited and it calmed Derek’s nerves a little bit. Still, the underlying layer of blood was permanently tinging the air and Derek couldn’t forget about it.

Additionally, Stiles kept fidgeting, his fingers itching towards the base of his neck as if he wanted to pull the tape off.

Derek had had it.

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on right this second, I will not make pancakes for dessert.” He bit out.

Like he said, it only calmed him a little bit. And now, he was officially out of patience.

“Jeeez, Sourwolf. Calm your jets.” Stiles was well aware, Derek would go through with his treat and he really craved dessert. When even the pout already on his face didn’t make Derek waver, Stiles decided he had tortured his boyfriend enough. First, he revealed the tattoo underneath the tape on his arm, watching eagerly as Derek’s eyes widened when he recognised a variation of the double-circle for the McCall-Pack.

Stiles didn’t miss the slight disappointment on Derek’s face either, before he concealed it with his usual stoic eyebrows.

“It looks good on you,” Derek offered but his eyes kept flicking to Stiles’ neck. Stiles grinned to himself, pleased with the anticipation and anxiety equally present in the wolf’s behaviour.

Over the course of the last year, Stiles had learned to speak Derek like no one else had had ever before. Once he had deciphered the way Derek communicated- mainly with his brows and growls- he found the interpretation fairly easy. Well aware that he was just teasing at this point, he slowly stood up from the table and turned around. Derek wondered briefly, why he was looking away from him, when Stiles stripped out of his shirt.

And Derek’s brain short-circuited.

Between the moles on Stiles’ back was more black ink.

Another tattoo. He had gotten another tattoo. And not just any other tattoo…

“Triskelion.” Derek murmured softly. He was up from his seat in the span of a second, plastered to Stiles’ back and presumably staring.

“You got a triskelion.” He repeated, out of breath, the warmth tingling on Stiles’ exposed skin. It hadn’t been up for debate that Stiles would get both of his Alphas represented on his body, equally but different.

“Yes, Sourwolf. Of course I did.” He whispered, turning in Derek’s arms, then leaned in, to place a soft kiss on Derek’s lips.

But Derek wouldn’t have it. He gripped Stiles and pulled him closer until he was pressed against the table, attacking his lips with so much fervour that it made Stiles’ head spin.

“Why?” Derek mouthed between burning hot kisses, his voice vulnerable, his gaze soft. It was a strange contrast to the way his lips moved across Stiles’ upper body, every inch they reached burning with need.

“Because I love you.” Stiles answered, voice barely above a whisper and watched Derek’s eyes widen.

He had wanted Derek to see, to have physical proof that Stiles was his, that he belonged to him- as pack, as an emissary, as a mate. The wolf was stock still, frozen against him. Stiles smiled and gently grabbed Derek’s cheeks.

“I love you, Derek.” He repeated, hyper-aware that Derek was listening determinately to his heart-beat for even the slightest proof of a lie. When he couldn’t detect one, Derek’s eyes filled with tears but the smile that broke out on his face was utterly blinding.

It warmed Stiles from his toes to his hairline.

“Stiles-“ He started, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“I...I love you.” He had known that, of course he had after fighting the idea for so long, but _God!_ hearing it was something else entirely. The kiss they shared after that felt like home, like safety. Like pure happiness.

And once again, Cora’s words echoed in his head.

He was so happy, it was burning him up.

And he wouldn’t want to change a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me and taking the time to read. If there is anything you would like to read from me, any prompt or ideas, please feel free to let me know.

**Author's Note:**

> I truly hope you enjoyed reading. Please tell me your thoughts in the comments and leave kudos if you liked it. If there is any idea / prompt you would like for me to turn into a fic, please let me know. 
> 
> I appreciate all the support and am thankful for each and every one of you who took the time to read.


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